For Better or For Worse
by Chloe Masen
Summary: Edward Cullen has a perfect life. A dream come true career as a superstar shortstop for the Seattle Mariners, true friends, a great house, and most of all, the perfect, loving wife. Can one moment destroy it all? Or will she stick by him for better or for worse?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. This belongs to me. **

**A/N: Yes, I know. I've lost my mind. My plate is full... OVERFLOWING, actually... but it's those damn voices... they just wouldn't shut up. And trying to ignore them wasn't working. And I wasn't getting anything else done... so, I set them free. This is me doing just that.**

**Now... this is AH, and OOC, as per my usual. And it's an established story, something that has been in my head longer than anything else. That being said, the nature of the story won't change. It will be what it has always been for me. There will be angst. And other things. I'm not going to say more than that.**

** And don't let this chapter fool you... it's citrus, but I promise there's meaning behind it. If you're looking for smut, you'll find it here, but there IS a plot. And it's a deep one.**

**So, without further ado...**

**...**

**Chapter One: Double Play**

**Edward**

"Welcome home, Mr. Cullen. I've been waiting for you."

_Fuck, I love my wife._

Bella sits in my favorite leather chair, her long, bare legs crossed and flung over one arm, a baseball sitting like a prize atop the real one that lies beneath the lucky stitched leather.

She wears one of my Mariner's caps, turned adorably to the side, and her luscious chocolate waves cascade down from beneath it, framing her pert, round, welcoming breasts.

_Welcome home, indeed._

I trail my fingertips from her ankles, just above her only other accessory - the white suede Louboutin peep-toes she wears - up her slender legs, and grip her behind the knees, opening her before me and revealing my MVP prize, the baseball rolling off of her and the chair and to the floor.

I stifle her giggle, slipping my tongue between her parted lips. Her mouth gives me a welcome of its own, and the lustful moan that travels from hers into mine makes my already-hard cock throb painfully in response.

I know my wife loves me, know it in my bones, and her desire for me has never wavered since our wedding night, when she surrendered herself to me - or anyone - for the first time...

But I also know what led to _this _particular generous welcome. "Sixth inning grand slam?" I tease, knowing full well it _wasn't_.

"Well, that was rather amazing," she murmurs against my mouth between playful nips, "and I may very well have done a highly appreciative cheer for it... "

I laugh as she sucks my bottom lip seductively before she bites it less than gently, her legs tensing in my hands.

"But not what made you... " I loosen my grip around her knees and move my hands up her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the chair, before grazing a finger over the baby soft, bare flesh between them. "... _wet_?"

She sucks in a breath and tugs at my hair in answer. I reach up with my left hand and pull my cap from her head and toss it on the couch, my right still on her, where she's been waiting for it.

"Tell me," I order softly, as she pools under my teasing touch.

"The... eighth... inning... " Her breathless words brush across my lips one at a time as she squirms against my fingers. "... double... play."

It's what I knew, and what I wanted to hear her say. My wife's _appreciation _of the finer points of my game never fail to amaze me, and it's one of the first things that drew me to her... her appreciation... her enthusiasm... led me to pick her beautiful face out of the crowd of fans in the stands...

That, and when she nearly fell out of them trying to catch a foul ball - which she did catch - while wearing _my _jersey, that I couldn't help but notice as she dangled precariously upside down, her only worry not dropping the ball.

Her only worry now, as she devours my mouth with hers, is that I show my own appreciation for _her_. And I would never deny her. Could never...

I pull my mouth from hers, only to move it quickly down her body, tasting every perfect inch of her, as I drop to my knees before what I really want.

I need to taste her, the sweetness of her appreciation in its raw, delicious state.

I look up at her as she softly clears her throat, and what I see is an invitation. For me. _Her_. She's for me. She's mine.

A devilish smile spreads across her face as she licks her lips and wiggles before me. Silently teasing me... _You know you want it..._

_Yes I do, and so do you... _

I give her a defenseless grin and rub my nose down the inside of her thigh, inhaling the scent of her as I make my way to my prize. I can't help the moan that escapes me as my tongue gets its first taste of her.

"I love you," she whispers, her hands again in my hair.

"I love you," I whisper back, my lips uttering the words against her dripping flesh.

She whimpers from the sensation and whispers again, breathlessly, "I missed you."

My mouth answers her, _I missed you, too... _ but without words this time, too hungry for her to share with them. She cries out and her grip on my hair tightens as she pulls me closer, urging me to show her just how much.

And show her I do. My lips treasure her with loving kisses... my tongue tastes every delectable nook of her... my hands cradle her... lift her closer because it's not enough... she's never close enough.

I will never get enough of this woman that gives herself to me. Of this... her...

Bella's taste is like heaven to me, and she knows this... that I would gladly spend my lifetime worshiping her perfection with my mouth...

And she loves it... never denies me... but I know that this, for her in this moment, is like the sixth inning grand slam. She'll yell and cheer, and praise my feat, but inside...

She longs for more. Something different. She aches for the double play...

She aches...

Pleads... "Edward... "

So I try to control the greed that threatens to overtake me, my mouth taking just a bit more... taking her just a bit farther, before I move it back to hers. She welcomes it hungrily, grateful for my generosity, and the generosity she knows I'll show her now.

She wraps herself around me and I lift her from the chair. My cock aches unbearably as she writhes against me, sucking gently on my covered-with-her tongue, as I try to make it up the stairs with her in my arms.

I make it only to the second landing of the long, winding staircase before she cries out "Here!" and grabs the banister, halting my ascent.

_Did I say I love my wife? Fuck..._

She gives me a delicious grin as my eyes bore into hers, both of us knowing that I won't tell her no... but I glance down anyway, assessing the risk... there _is _a risk.

But I still can't tell her no.

I take a deep breath, and reach down with one hand to free myself from my pants, while she places a series of kisses and gentle bites along my jaw, her legs wrapped tightly around me, her heart beating in anticipation.

Mine beats just as hard. "This is dangerous, you know... " I say as my pants and boxers fall to my ankles.

"I trust you," she whispers against my neck. "Always. You're strong... and you'd never, ever let me fall."

"Never," I breathe, holding her tight against me with one arm, and gripping the banister with my other hand, the absolution of her words coursing through me.

Braced, I step hurriedly out of my shoes and kick free of my clothes, desperate to prove their truth. Prove how worthy I am of them. How worthy I am of her.

"Now!" she demands impatiently, as soon as my arm is back around her, but she doesn't wait for me. She grips my shoulders roughly and positions herself to take what she wants, and does... slamming down on me, needily burying my cock deep inside of her.

_My god, this woman..._

She throws her head back, digging her nails into my shoulders, biting her lip as she does.

"Hold on tight, baby. Don't let go." My words are an order, but come out like a plea as she falls back, pulling me with her until her ass rests on the smooth wood.

"Fuck me, Edward. Please... " she begs, grinding her sweet pussy desperately against me, burying me even deeper inside of her.

The feel of her tight and wet around me, mixed with the deep pleading look in her eyes, makes me forget my fear and everything else but what she wants. Keeping my left arm around her, I grip her hip firmly with my right hand as I pull back and thrust into her.

"Yes!" she cries out, her legs tightening like a vice around me, her heels digging into my back.

I move slowly in and out of her, her safety returning to the forefront of my mind again, but it's not what she wants.

"Harder, Edward," she pleads, her hands falling to my ass.

"Bella... "

"Harder!"

She teeters, trying to find the leverage she needs to force my thrust, and I slam her against me in panic.

The _"Oh, fuck!" _that fills the air tells me that the only way I can keep her safe is to take full control, giving her what she wants so she doesn't try to take it.

She trusts me. It's implicit. Absolute. And she needs...

My once-innocent bride, who never questioned or denied me anything I asked of her in our bed, has blossomed into a vibrant, insatiable creature that makes my every dream come true every day of our lives.

Because she trusted me.

She let me show her. Let me teach her. What she could feel. What she could make me feel.

She was eager to learn. Eager to please. Eager to feel. Eager to need. And trusting through every moment of all of it.

Every mind-blowing moment...

I let it settle over me... her trust... her need...

I let it fill me...

As I fill her. Again and again. Grip her hard while I pound into her, because it's what she wants. This time.

Not the gentle man that made love to her slowly before I left her two days ago, wishing I could stay in her arms, stay buried inside of her, never leave her, never be away from her for a single second...

The man who did leave her. Had to. The man who she sometimes has to let go of... _let _leave her...

The man who she watches from miles away... through a screen, like the rest of the world... because I'm living my dream... the one that isn't her.

Except it is. She dreams it with me. For me. She supports me. She lets me leave. She waits. She knows I'll come back. Always. To her. My life.

My beautiful, perfect wife... my biggest fan. In life. And on the many fields I leave her to live my dream on. The dream that sometimes brings her to where we are now.

An impossible catch, but not impossible for me.

A throw, faster and more precise than a human should be capable of, yet I am.

And it makes her toes curl. Makes her bite her lip. Makes her ache. For me.

And she waits... for me to come home and fill her need. Fill her...

Fuck her.

Hard.

Relentless.

Pound into her until she screams.

Like I do now. Fuck her. My beautiful wife. Mercilessly. Not gently.

It's what she wants. What she loves.

My legs. She loves their power. Their strength. Their endurance.

My hands. She loves them. Trusts them. To hold her. Protect her. Make her feel...

Make her scream as I dig them into her flesh as my cock slams into her harder and deeper with every powerful thrust.

Hard.

Deep.

Inside of her.

My cock.

My love.

Her trust.

That makes her let go, like I knew she would... when she came undone. Because her trust is absolute. Even teetering precariously - foolishly - on this rail of wood high in the air... she trusts me. To give her everything she needs, and not let her fall as she lets herself take it.

Lets go. Her hands, her cries of pleasure, my name...

Her. She gives herself to me. Her whole self.

Her liquid self. Pulls me deeper with every sweet drop.

And still trusts as I explode into her with my own, my legs shaking but my hands unyielding on her. Because she let go...

But I never will.

Ever.

I'll never let go of this woman that loves me so much. Trusts me so much...

That laughs as I pull her from her dangerous perch and on top of me as we fall to the floor.

I don't have any legs left. After the game... after her...

My beautiful wife that cups my face in her delicate hands and kisses me sweetly. The tiger turned back into a kitten...

"Welcome home, Mr. Cullen. That was a hell of a game."

xx

**I'll say...**

**But enough from me, what do _you_ think? Click that little button down there and tell me. If you want.**


	2. Chapter 2: Whipped and Worshiped

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SM. This is mine. **

**A/N: An unusual approach, perhaps. But it all means something. Honest it does.**

**As for what it doesn't mean...**

**THIS IS NOT A CHEATWARD. Period. I won't say it again.**

** And now that that's out of the way...**

**...**

** Chapter Two: Whipped and Worshiped**

**Edward**

"How did you do it, Bella? How did you turn the infamous womanizing playboy that was my brother into the smitten little kitten we have here?"

"Don't tell her," I say, nuzzling Bella's neck as I put the plate of her favorite cream cheese scrambled eggs down on the table in front of her. "She'll use any information you give her to try to drag Emmett down the aisle of no return."

"You mean the one that you _ran _down to wait for Bella to have mercy on you and meet you at the end of?" Rose asks, calling me out.

Bella laughs and gives my leg a squeeze as I sit down beside her, having heard a thousand times about my enthusiasm on that day while I waited for her to make me the happiest man alive.

"Yes, that one," I say with pride, beaming at my wife. "And I feel no shame about it."

"Obviously. You haven't stopped grinning like an idiot since the day she said yes to your ridiculous proposal."

"You mean _epic _proposal. And what can I say, sis, I'm a happy man. What did you call me a minute ago? A smitten little kitten?"

"God, Edward, you are truly pussy-whipped... "

I laugh, denying nothing, and pull Bella into my lap, sliding her plate in front of me.

"And I adore that about him," she sighs, running the tip of her tongue along my jaw.

"Ugh, Bella, do you even know where that thing has been?" Rose asks, wrinkling her nose.

"Of course I do. Just before you showed up, this chiseled masterpiece was etching I love you's into the insides of my... " She lets her sentence trail off, a wistful expression on her face, her mind undoubtedly revisiting my morning worship.

"Lucky bitch," Rose scowls, "All I got when I woke up was the sight of Emmett clipping his toenails in the bed next to me."

I chuckle and she flips me off, but her eyes turn serious as she watches me dip the fork into Bella's eggs and put it to her mouth.

"You two have the perfect life. And it's disgusting. And I want one just like it. Why won't Emmett marry me?"

Bella wants no part of this, and quickly closes her mouth around the fork, making it impossible for her to speak, and leaving the asked-a-thousand-times question to me.

But I have no answer for my sister.

At least none that she wants to hear.

Emmett is one of my closest friends, and after four years of being with Rosalie, he's no closer to saying 'I do' than the day they met.

Because Emmett doesn't believe in forever. Doesn't believe in marriage. And doesn't believe that a person could love another so much that they would endure any hell that befalls them and still stay by their side.

He doesn't believe what I believe.

What I know with my beautiful wife tucked against me.

What I know as she rests her head on my shoulder.

What I knew the first time I stood face to face with her and looked into her eyes.

He just doesn't believe...

That one person can be everything to you.

Change who you are.

Show you with a look that you can be more.

Make you want to be more.

Be everything. To _them_...

Emmett doesn't believe in any of that.

And Rose doesn't wait for the answer she doesn't want to hear as she gets up to leave.

"Well, I want it. I want what you have. And I won't wait forever for him to give it to me. We all have limits to what we will take from a person, and what we'll settle for, no matter how much we love them."

Because she already knew.

And doesn't believe what I believe either.

With my beautiful wife tucked against me.

Where I know she'll always be.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too, Bella. Forever... "

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Tell me you don't want to leave me."

Bella looks down at me, her eyes pleading, her hair wet with sweat and plastered to the sides of her face and neck as she moves with desperate abandon above me.

"I don't want to leave you," I breathe, my heart constricting in my chest. "Ever."

"But you will," she says, grabbing my face in her hands and pulling me up to her. "You always do."

"I have to," I breathe again, wrapping my arms around her. "But you know it kills me."

"I do know," she murmurs against my lips, wrapping her legs around me and pulling me deeper inside of her.

"And that I'll come back to you," I murmur against hers, burrowing still deeper as she writhes hard against me.

"Come running back," she declares, her body trembling as she clings to the edge.

"Always," I vow, holding her tighter, as she lets go and clenches around me, her delicate blissful whimpers flowing into my mouth.

Her whimpers that turn to a sexy squeal of delight as I let go of my own edge and spill into her.

Her sexy squeal that makes me laugh as she rests her forehead against mine and stares into my eyes.

My eyes that drink her in as I wait for her words...

"To love me."

And hers that twinkle with knowing as she waits for mine...

"For as long as I breathe."

**…**

**FBoFW **

**…**

"So, I'll see you Saturday... "

"Of course you will. And after next week, you'll see me every day."

"I know it's selfish, but I love it when the school year comes to an end, and I get my cheerleader back."

"You always have your cheerleader, you just can't always see and hear me."

"I know," I sigh, leaning down for one last kiss.

I lose myself in her for a moment before she shoves me gently out the door. "You have to go."

"Miss me."

"I already do."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Get your game face on, loverboy."

"It'll be in place when it needs to be."

"You're a rare breed, Cullen. Most of us can't wait to get away from the ties that bind. And nag... "

"My wife doesn't nag."

"You're a lucky bastard, that's for sure."

"Truer words have never been spoken, Jazz. I have it all."

"Yeah, well hang on to it. Mack got the final word from the doc on his shoulder, he's done. And that bitch he married took off for _greener _pastures before he even had time to process the news."

"He's done? You mean for the season, right? We already figured that... "

"No, I mean _done_. Career over."

"Fuck."

"Yeah... he's a mess."

"And she just took off?"

"She told him she wanted an 'is', not a 'was' or a 'could have been', and packed her designer bags and left."

"What a fucking bitch."

"And you know what? When I told Maria... she _laughed_, and told me life was cruel. And to keep my ass in shape, because she wouldn't want a 'was' either."

"Well, we already knew your wife was a bitch, Jazz, but Mack... I wouldn't have expected that from Gabby."

"Like I said, Cullen, you're a lucky bastard. The luckiest bastard alive. That wife of yours is a gem."

"Yes she is... "

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

My eyes flit briefly to where Bella sits as I come up to bat.

One more out and we lose.

But she's watching...

She's looking right at me. Beaming at me.

With love.

With pride.

Confident...

In me...

What I can do.

On this field.

And to her...

The two loves of my life...

Together today. In the same place.

Mine.

I own them both.

And it's easy...

Because she gives me all.

And I take it...

Like I'm about to take this game.

End it right here...

She blows me a kiss.

I smash the ball.

Send two runners home.

And myself.

And it feels good.

The second best feeling in the world.

Second best...

And I'll revel in it...

Until I can have the first.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"Fuck, baby, that feels so good. Your hands are pure magic."

"My hands aren't the only thing that's magic, Mr. MVP, and when I'm done, I'm going to roll you over and show you how proud I am of you."

_Fuck..._

As much as I love my wife's heavenly massages...

Her soft, delicate hands that relax me... comfort me... spoil me...

She spoke those words through her mouth.

And my wife's mouth...

Her beautiful laughter fills the air as I buck her off of me and flip myself over. "You're done."

"Am I?" she smirks.

"Yes, you _are_."

"Well... I _did _promise to honor and obey... "

"Yes, you _did_."

"Very well, then. Whatever you say, sweetheart."

She gives me a devilish smile and trails her fingertips down my sides, her eyes appreciative as they travel down my body and settle on my aching-to-be-adored cock.

"So... you said magic... "

"I did."

"Would you like to see a trick?"

"I would."

"Any particular one?"

"I'd like to see you pull a rabbit out of a hat."

She giggles and tucks her fingers into the waistband of my shorts, and with a few magic words, yanks them from me with a grand flourish. "Ta da!"

I clap my hands, her proud, goofy expression making me chuckle. "Very well done, Mrs. Cullen."

"Why, thank you, sir."

"No, thank _you_. Now, may I make another request?"

"You certainly may."

I nod towards the space between my legs and she quickly positions herself between them, massaging them gently as she looks up at me and waits, hunger in her deep brown eyes.

I take my cock in my hand, slowly stroking it while she watches. I chuckle again as she bites her lip and her eyes move from my movements to my face, a delicious pout forming on her mouth.

"Awww, what's wrong, baby?"

"I thought this was _my _magic show."

"It is."

"Don't you want to see any more of _my _tricks?"

"I do. One especially... one that I really, really, _really _want to see."

"What one is that?" she asks innocently.

I reach up and brush my thumb across her lips, then down her chin and deliberately over her throat, as my other hand strokes just as deliberately down my cock.

"I want to see you make it disappear."

She licks her lips and swallows slowly, knowing I can feel it under my thumb. "Then watch closely," she whispers, "I don't want you to miss anything."

I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, and pull her mouth to mine, kissing her deeply before letting her go. A contented sigh escapes me as I watch her, her hair tickling my skin as she moves slowly down my body, her lips confidently leading the way to fulfill my request.

Watching her, my mind travels back to the first time I asked her to take me in her mouth...

How much she's changed since that night...

She shyly bit her lip and looked down at my cock in my hand like I'd asked her to perform an impossible feat.

She was nervous. Intimidated.

But the want she saw in my eyes as I tilted her chin up, and her desire to please me won the battle over her fear that she couldn't.

She did as I asked, willing, but still nervous, while I watched with fascination as another layer of her innocence fell away for me.

She wanted to make me happy, of this there was no doubt, but my watching her do it unnerved her. She didn't like my eyes on her...

That is, until I told her how beautiful it was...

The sight of her mouth around me.

That was all she needed to hear. And the guidance she asked me to give her. Because she wanted so desperately to be everything to me.

The guidance that I gave her.

The guidance that she took without hesitation. Without inhibition.

And her determination to forget her insecurities about the many women that came before her. Her determination to make _me _forget...

An easy feat... and one I couldn't take my eyes off of as she adored every inch of me like I'd given her a priceless treasure.

Easy, unlike the feat she performs now... as I watch my cock disappear into her loving mouth.

She can take it all... this woman that _is _everything to me. She takes it... what I asked her for, and what she never gave up trying to do until she could give it to me.

And what she came to love giving to me...

She loves it...

Worshiping me. Spoiling me. Owning me with her mouth.

God, this woman owns me...

My heart...

My soul...

My body...

They all belong to her.

And my throbbing cock that's buried deep in her throat...

Just where I wanted it...

And where she keeps it, her eyes locked on mine, her hands gripping tight to my legs.

"So fucking beautiful... " I tell her, barely able to utter the words through the mind-numbing pleasure I feel. The pleasure I watch myself feel.

She hums her thanks and the sensation nearly ends me.

But I don't let it...

Because her eyes tell me no. Not yet.

I gave her a priceless treasure...

And she wants to worship it.

And fuck, I'm going to let her...

Her mouth starts to move up and down my length...

Her nails dig into my flesh.

Her thankful moans vibrate off of my cock.

Her lips and tongue truly magic...

Tasting...

Savoring...

Committing me to their memory...

Selfless and greedy all at once.

Pulling me under.

Pulling me in...

Deeper...

Her throat opening for me again and again...

Welcoming.

Possessing.

Owning.

_Fuck..._

I truly am...

The luckiest bastard alive.

I have it all...

And it's hers.


	3. Chapter 3 : Clouds

**Twilight belongs to SM. This is mine.**

**The angst is coming. Bear with me. Let them enjoy their cloud just a bit longer. But for those of you who want immediate angstification... (yes, I made that up)... go read When You Close Your Eyes. It hits you hard and fast. It's on my profile. As for this... we'll hear from Bella this chapter. So, I'll let you get to it...**

**Chapter Three: Clouds**

**Edward**

"Stop pouting, Edward."

"I am _not _pouting."

"No? Then what do you call it?"

"I don't know. What's a manly word for pouting?"

"There isn't one," she laughs, "It's just pouting. And it's for _girls_."

"Are you calling me a girl, _Mrs_. Cullen?"

"Certainly not, _Mr_. Cullen. My husband is all _man_."

"You're damn right he is."

"I know."

"You _should_, but I don't have a problem showing you. Why don't you come over here?"

"Because I'm already dressed. And if I come over there, I won't stay that way."

"Not for a second."

"Which is why I'm _not _coming over there."

"But you're leaving me. Don't I at least deserve a proper goodbye?"

"I'm only leaving you for a few hours. And I already gave you a proper _Good morning_ an hour ago."

"There was nothing _proper _about that good morning, sweetheart. I'm pretty sure Emily Post is _still _rolling over and over and over in her grave."

"Shame on me!" she scolds, jutting her ass towards me and giving it a hard smack.

_Shame on you is right, you evil little tease... _"I think that was a far too gentle punishment... Bring that naughty little ass over here so I can give it what it deserves."

"Sorry... but I'm going to have to disobey that order. Time for this naughty girl to go to work."

"You do know that will just get you an even harder punishment later?"

"I do," she pouts, and then smiles like the Cheshire Cat.

_I really fucking love my wife... _

And she knows it. "Now come and give me a kiss goodbye, Mr. _Smitten_. I really need to go."

I jump up from where I've been lounging on the bed watching her move about getting ready and step into my shoes. "I'm taking you to work today. And picking you up."

"And why is that?"

"Well, first of all, because it's the last day of school, and I know your students will lavish you with goodbye presents. I can help you carry them all and load them up."

"That's very sweet of you. And second?"

"_Second_, so I can make sure you don't run away with some smooth talking little punk that declares his undying love for you out of desperation at not seeing you for a few months."

"A smooth talking little punk _first grader_?"

"Yes."

"You're shameless."

"And you have a weakness for shortstops. Some of those little leaguers in your class have mad skills."

"And they all worship the ground _you _walk on. I'm pretty sure none of them will try to steal your wife from you."

"Don't put it past them," I tell her, pulling her into my arms and brushing her lips with a gentle kiss. "But I'll be there to pick you up, just in case."

"As you wish, dear," she murmurs against my mouth, "But just know... " she brings her hands to my face, "there's nothing... " runs her tongue across my top lip, "and no one... " and the bottom, "that could ever make me leave you," before pulling it into her mouth and sucking longingly as she pushes herself against me. "Those little leaguers aren't the only ones worshiping at your feet."

"That's good to know, sweetheart," I sigh, knowing this can go no further now, but that she wishes it could as much as I do. "And I expect to see you do just _that _the moment I bring you home."

"Part of my _harder _punishment?" she asks, followed by a masochistic smile that makes my cock throb painfully.

"No... " I smirk, pulling her hand from my face and rubbing it over my painfully throbbing cock, "... just my way of ensuring _I _give you the best present today."

"Now _that's _how you smooth talk a girl, Mr. Cullen." She squeezes, a wistful moan escaping her lips, "And we both know at that, _you _are the master."

_I _really _fucking love my wife..._

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"The kids sure do love him."

"Yeah... " I say, turning my adoring gaze from my husband, to give Principal Weber a guilty smile. "Sorry, I know he creates chaos when he comes here."

"Don't apologize, Bella. Most of the parents pick up on the last day, and as you can see, most of _them _are just as enthralled as their children." He laughs and shakes his head, "Though I'm not sure who's more enthralled... the kids, the dads, or the _moms_."

"Actually, Bill... " I sigh, "it's _me_."

At that exact moment, Edward looks up from his crowd of adoring fans, young _and _old, and smiles at me. And that smile is so full of tenderness... so full of love... and so full of heart-stopping awe, that it makes my knees tremble and my breath catch.

"Are you sure about that?" he asks with a laugh, as Edward makes his way to us, devotion pouring from every part of him.

"I'm sure about _everything_."

"You ready, beautiful?" Edward asks, grasping my hand in his.

I nod and give it a squeeze. "Have a great summer, Bill. See you in September."

"You too, Bella. Both of you."

And as we walk away hand in hand, smiles on our faces at the months of togetherness that wait for us, "Go Mariners!" rings out behind us.

And my smile gets wider... because as rewarding as my job is, nothing gives me greater joy than making my husband feel loved, adored, and admired.

And gets wider still when he opens my door, and leans in close once I'm settled in my seat, his own stretching from ear to ear as he looks at me... because he _knows_.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

He opens the heavy front door and I step inside, but I only get a step further before he grabs me, shutting it behind him and leaning against it. "It's my turn."

"Your turn for what?"

"To be the center of your world."

"You're always the center of my world."

"But you can't always _show _me."

_My poor baby... _"Awww... Have I been neglecting you?"

He smiles, because the answer to that is an unequivocal _Hell no_, but not the one he gives me. "Yes. You've been horribly neglecting me."

"Well, I'm so very sorry about that. I'll have to make that up to you, won't I?"

"Yes, you _will_."

I know exactly what he wants, and I'd never deny him, but since we're playing a game...

"I'll have to think about this a bit. I'm not sure what I could do... how I could possibly even begin to right my horrible wrongs against you... "

"School's out, Mrs. Cullen. No more thinking."

"Not even about you?"

"No. And no more talking, either."

He drops one arm from around me, and pops the button on his jeans, his stunning green eyes dark with need.

I smile sweetly and make to zip my lips, just as he slides his own zipper down.

"Oh no, sweetheart... I want it wide open."

I do as he wants, and open it wide, and do my best to keep it that way - and not laugh - when an arrogant smirk forms on his mouth and he forces it wider.

And arrogant or not, when his fingers move into my hair and grasp the back of my head and he forces me to look down, I know he's probably not too far off in his calculations of how _wide open _it needs to be. He certainly has a mouthful in his hand...

_My _mouthful.

His beautiful, thick, delectable-looking cock that he wants me to adore.

Right here. Right now.

So I drop to my knees on the cool, hard marble floor of our foyer.

And it makes him smile as he gazes down at me.

And his smile makes me wait, because I know _that's _what he wants now...

Acknowledgement.

Willingness.

And _want_.

Mine matching his.

Thirst...

And patience.

And I will be...

Patient.

Though I know my eyes plead.

Beg...

_Not too long, please?_

And he smirks sexily at that.

And I lick my lips as he strokes himself...

Once...

Twice...

"Ah, ah, ah..." he scolds, "I said _open_."

I swallow hard, my mouth watering profusely, and open it again, as wide as I can.

"Good girl," he praises.

His hand is still cupping the back of my head, and he pulls it closer to him.

I grip his legs, because I know this game... I know where he wants my hands.

And my lips...

"Kisses," he orders.

I pepper loving kisses up and down his muscular legs as I hold them like a treasure in my hands. They tremble slightly under my light touch and adoring mouth, and I feel him brace himself more firmly against the door.

Edward likes _sweet_, which in all things sexual, was what I was when I gave myself to him...

I was a virgin when we met. He loved that about me. Loved it so much that he didn't try to change it.

Edward Cullen, superstar and playboy extraordinaire, didn't once try to convince me to give my innocence to him.

He was patient. Understanding. Respectful and proud...

Until our wedding night, when he took what would only ever be his with tenderness and love.

He was sweet. He was gentle. And he made me feel adored.

He made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

He made me feel like the most loved woman in existence.

He made me _feel_, in ways I didn't know were possible.

Ways I couldn't have dreamed of.

And I was grateful. And wanted to make him feel as loved as he made me.

Wanted to make him feel as good.

I'd heard stories... rumors...

Edward had been with many women... I knew this.

He was said to be wild and uninhibited...

But it's not how he treated me in the beginning. And I took my cues from him.

I touched him gently. I kissed him sweetly. I wanted him to feel the love in my lips on his skin. And I know that he did. And I know how much he loved it.

Things changed, of course...

Grew...

Blossomed...

I learned new ways to please him...

New ways that he loved...

Less gentler ways...

Less _sweet_...

He wasn't shy. Wasn't ever afraid to ask me for something. Wasn't ever hesitant to _tell _me what he wanted or needed...

And he did.

But he never tired of the sweet.

Never tired of the adoration I showed him.

And even though this game we're playing now is not headed for a _sweet _place...

He still wanted it... for a moment. From me, his wife that he told me was the only woman to ever show him such. The only woman he ever wanted it from.

But now that moment has passed...

His fingers twist in my hair. Pull...

My gaze to his.

My mouth back to open and waiting.

Pooling with my need to taste him. Please him. In any way he wants.

He brushes my top lip with the wet, glistening tip of his cock.

I want to lick it, but don't. Not my lip... not his cock... not until he says...

He strokes it again, one slow stroke up his undoubtedly impressive length, though it's all I've ever known...

And paints my bottom lip with a gentle, teasing stroke of wet silk.

I still don't move, but I can't help the whimper of want that escapes my throat through my open and waiting mouth.

He smiles proudly and pulls my head just a bit closer. Closer, but not close enough. My tongue could reach him if I dared to let it, but my damp-with-him parted lips are still too far away. And I pray for not much longer...

I want to taste him so desperately that it hurts.

And he knows it. "Just one," he says, warning me.

I lick him slowly from my top lip, wanting more, but returning my mouth to the way _he _wants it.

"Well, maybe _two_... " he relents.

I greedily pull my bottom lip into my mouth, sucking every trace of him from it like my life depends on it.

It makes him chuckle.

And finally have mercy on me.

Before he doesn't.

"You want something to suck on, sweetheart?"

And now I break my silence, because I know he wants to _hear _my want. "Yes. But not something... _you_. Only you."

"Only me, _what_?"

How stupid of me... "Only you, _PLEASE_?"

And thankfully, graciously, he doesn't torment me with a time-wasting spoken reply. He puts the tip of his cock between my lips, but no further, and tells me to suck.

And suck I do, like a woman dying of thirst who's been given a life-saving gift of drink. And with that desperation, I forget my manners, and who's in charge of this little game, and grip his legs tightly, trying to pull him deeper into my mouth.

He lets me... bestows me a few inches of his delicious cock that I want to devour, but his tangled grip in my hair doesn't loosen. In fact, it tightens, and is joined by his other hand, which has now released him fully to my hungry mouth.

His breathing gets heavy as I guide him slowly back and forth between my adoring lips, my tongue twisting and twirling over every smooth, silky inch it can reach, every bit of him it can taste.

I love my husband. I love every part of him...

And I will never get tired of showing him how much.

I will never get my fill of the taste of him.

I will never not crave him...

His lips...

His chiseled jaw...

And his work-of-art cock in my mouth, which is somewhere he - so luckily for me - loves it to be.

He loves my hunger for him. Loves my willingness. And loves that he doesn't have to be sweet.

I'll give him anything he wants. And let him take the same. Give him control...

Like he does now as he thrusts in and out of my mouth.

I can't move... and don't try to. Wouldn't dare...

His hands are relentless in my hair...

Pulling. Pulling me...

Pushing. His cock...

Deeper. Harder.

He fucks my mouth without inhibition. Without worry. And without a trace of gentleness.

Because he can. And because sometimes it's what he needs.

And because he knows I'll give him anything.

It was never a question...

He only wanted me to show him...

That he _is _the center of my world.

And I know he knows he is...

As he spills himself into my mouth...

Fills it...

Generously...

Unrelenting...

And proud.

He pulls it from me slowly, inch by glistening inch, running it down my chin and throat, before letting it fall. "Show me," he orders softly.

I look up at him with pride of my own at being able to give him what he needs and open my mouth. He gently strokes my hair with one hand as he moves the other under my chin, tilting it up slightly, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip, as his labored breaths accompany his words, singing a song of wonder and contentment. "You're so fucking beautiful, Bella."

This is something else he loves. Seeing my mouth full of him. His pleasure. His gift.

It _is _a gift to me. Precious...

And always beautiful to him.

And also like always, he wants me to accept it. Every last drop. "Show me," he orders again.

And I swallow - and it takes more than one - never taking my eyes from his, though his are now on my throat, fascinated...

I smile, and wait for my last order, which comes in a hoarse breath, "Show me."

I open my mouth one last time, empty this time... to show him how good I am, and then whisper the words I know he wants to hear, or a variation of them, as I slide his jeans and boxers back up and tuck him gently inside. "Thank you for letting me love you so much, and giving me so much more."

It's the 'thank you' that he wanted, but it's what I added that makes his eyes go from _"Good girl" _to the _"Fuck, I love my wife" _expression I so often see in them.

And as he pulls me from my knees and lifts me into his again-gentle hold, I answer his unspoken declaration with soft words whispered into his neck. "_She_ loves you too."

"I'll be forever grateful for that," he whispers back, sweeping me up and carrying me towards the staircase, "but I'm afraid she doesn't know."

_Oh... she knows..._

_And so does he..._

But I'll be damned if I don't let him show me.

Because one more thing Edward loves...

Is saying _You're welcome._

_Fuck, I love my husband..._

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

She looks so peaceful lying there...

I hate to wake her. Well... wake her _again_...

Because my trooper of a wife is exhausted.

I'm not sorry for that... _Fucking hell... _

I'll _never _be sorry... or _ever _forget... but I should let her rest.

Let whatever is putting the sweet smile on her beautiful face as she sleeps keep putting it there.

I'm confident I have something to do with it...

Like her still-swollen mouth and flushed skin.

And as happy as I am about that...

And as much as I'd love to stand here all day and look at her perfection...

I have to go to the damn team meeting.

And neither of us has ever left the house without saying goodbye.

Never left the other sleeping.

She knows about the meeting...

But if she wakes and I'm not here...

No. I won't do it to her.

I sweep her hair from her face and place a tender kiss in the crook of her neck, my tongue slipping out to taste the salty sheen that still covered her as she drifted back to sleep.

A soft moan vibrates in her throat, followed by a delicate, sleepy whisper... "Edward... "

My name is so sweet on her lips that I'm tempted to settle back into this bed with her and never leave. I'd like nothing more in this moment than to hold her in my arms and feel her heartbeat against mine...

But I can't. "Bella... I'm leaving, sweetheart."

A frown forms on her lips, replacing the smile that she wore a moment ago.

I hate that I'm the one that took it away. It's getting harder to leave her by the second, and I swear if she opens her eyes...

"Kisses," she murmurs, puckering her mouth, her eyes still closed.

_Harder by the second... _

I smother her face with them, making her giggle, and the sound making my heart melt. And that makes it even harder to leave her. Like when my lips finally reach hers, and she grabs my face to hold me there, ghosting her closed mouth over mine... teasing me with sweetness, her eyes fluttering open...

I've never struggled so much to walk away from my wife. Something is telling me not to. My _heart _is telling me not to... _This is the center of your world. It's her. You don't need more. Stay with her._

But it's not what comes from her sweet mouth. "See you soon. I love you." Because she's never asked me to stay. She wouldn't...

She'd never ask me to give anything up for her. Because she loves me too much.

"I love you too, baby. See you soon."

I feel like I'm doing something wrong as I turn and walk away. But when I glance back to look at her one more time, the smile is back on her face. And I know I've put it there this time, because her eyes are still open and settled adoringly on me. Adoringly and tired...

"Go back to sleep, beautiful. You still have a few hours. And it will be hotel beds for the next three nights, so enjoy our cloud while you can."

"Good idea," she smiles, and reaches for my pillow. She wraps her arms around it and buries her face in it, inhaling deeply, before gazing back at me. "Our cloud is perfect."

"So are you... "

She blows me a kiss and I leave the bedroom, and her, with heavy legs. I wish I understood why. Why it's so hard to leave her...

It's just a meeting. And she'll be with me wherever I go for the next few months... right by my side...

We're going to have a great summer...

I have everything.

So why do I feel such a suffocating sense of dread?

Thunder cracks hard through the silence, as if in some answer that I don't understand. I look up at the house once I pull my Vanquish around to the drive, and at that moment, the sky opens up in a sudden and violent downpour.

Bella loves the rain...

And thinks ground-shaking thunder is sexy...

And I wonder if she'll sleep now, in our perfect cloud.

Our perfect cloud so different than the ones I'm under as I pull down the long drive and away from her.

_See you soon..._

xx

**Do you feel that? *shivers***

**And I just wanted to mention, before anyone else does... I know that the students' last day is not the teachers'. But it's fiction, babes, and I just don't care.**


	4. Chapter 4: Prayers

**So, here we are. After far too long. Which I'll give some insight to in my book of an A/N at the bottom. And, just for the sake of mentioning it... SM still owns Twilight, not that anyone doesn't know that.**

**Chapter Four: Prayers**

**Edward**

The sky is eerily dark.

Ominous.

Violent...

The lightning flashing across it.

The thunder cracking through it.

Roaring...

A battle cry.

Or a warning.

And the rain...

Pounding.

Pummeling.

Relentless.

Blinding.

I can't see a fucking thing.

But Bella's sweet smile...

Beckoning.

Calling...

_Come back to me, Edward._

Words she didn't speak.

But words I hear.

Drowning out all other sound.

All other conscious thought.

Pummeling me...

Like the rain.

Making my heart pound.

Its violent rhythm painful in my chest.

And her voice in my ears...

_I love you. See you soon._

Words she did speak.

Just before I turned around and left her.

I turned around and left.

My wife in our perfect cloud.

And turn around is exactly what I want to do now.

Go back...

To her.

Because something is wrong.

I don't know what it is...

But it's _something_.

I can feel it.

The presence of it.

The weight of it.

The _threat _of it.

And I can't ignore it anymore.

_Won't _ignore it anymore...

There's a place to turn around just about a mile up ahead. Just a few more minutes...

And I'll be on my way back to her.

Where everything was right...

Before I turned around and left.

And that I pray...

Still is...

When I turn around and go back.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I fly up in our bed.

A cold sweat covering me.

My heart racing...

Pounding...

My heart...

And someone at the door.

Pounding furiously.

I think...

I look around and try to connect... _anything_.

I'm disoriented. Confused.

And alone.

Except for the pounding.

And the chill.

And the _fear_.

I don't know what I'm afraid of...

But it's here. All around me. Where Edward is not.

Edward...

He left for his meeting.

How long ago?

Thunder rips through the quiet as I look to the clock beside the bed, seeking the answer.

The truth that is...

Accompanied by quiet that isn't...

I hear the rain just beyond the glass doors.

And more pounding.

On the heavy one below.

And on my heart. Because it's late. _Too _late.

And the fist at the door...

Pounding so hard I hear it all the way up here. _Too _hard.

And the bell.

Ringing through the house again and again.

Making me more afraid.

Because Edward should be here by now. Should be back.

Should have woken me up by now. Long before now.

We should be leaving soon.

Together.

Not alone like I am as I climb from our bed. Our cloud. Our peace.

Peace that isn't here now.

I want the pounding to stop. And the ringing. And the fear that's gripping my chest.

I want them all to go away.

Will them to as I grab Edward's shirt from the floor with trembling fingers and pull it on. And my skirt from yesterday, the first things I find to cover myself.

We never left this room.

Well...

_I_ didn't. Not from the moment he carried me up the stairs.

We even ate dinner in our little cloud. His and mine.

Dinner that he made while I lay dazed in a blissful haze.

Only to return to it after... again and again and again.

Edward is always that way when he gets me to himself.

Insatiable.

His need...

His possession...

Incessant.

Like the assault on our front door as I make my way on shaky legs down our maze of stairs.

I hear my name now as I get closer.

A frantic, desperate cry...

Like the fear that rises up and chokes me as the voice registers in my brain.

Emmett's voice.

Edward's best friend.

And I know before I see his face that something is horribly, terribly wrong.

I know that my life has been changed.

Our life.

Our perfect cloud.

Altered in some way.

A way I don't want to know.

A way I don't want to hear.

A way I don't want to see...

A way that takes my legs from under me as I do and his wild eyes meet mine.

Still me.

And all of my words but one...

"No!"

His eyes travel sadly over me and he shakes his head, coming inside and closing the door behind him. "He's not dead... "

"Not. D-d-d... Not... "

"No. _Not_. But it's bad, Bella... it's really fucking bad."

"But he... he j-just... he... "

"I know, honey."

"No."

I try to push past him and to the door, no thought in my mind but getting to my husband...

My husband that's _not _dead. Not...

But his arms are firm, his voice soft, "Go get dressed. You can't go like that. You're not even wearing shoes, and you look... " His eyes travel over me again and settle on my face with a small smile. "_Loved_."

What does that matter? "I _am_... and I want to... I need to see him. Now. I-"

"I know, Bella. But he needs to see something, too. So, go. Hurry. Then I'll take you to him. Not the you he left loved. The you he needs _now_. The strong you. The sturdy you. The one that can handle anything... for him. Because you _love_ him that much."

I love him.

I do.

I love him so much...

So much _more_ than so much...

I love him...

Enough.

That I understand.

Know what he's telling me.

I haven't lost him...

Edward.

My life.

But it's bad...

Really fucking bad.

And he's trying to prepare me.

Wants me to take the time to prepare myself.

Not for me...

For Edward.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

Fifteen minutes later, I'm running past the packed bags near the door of our bedroom. The bags that were ready and waiting...

And that won't be going anywhere.

Today.

Because there aren't going to be any trips today.

No flights...

No games...

Not for us.

The small bag thrown hastily together and over my shoulder is all I'm going to need.

For the one I'm taking now.

And me...

The me I have to be.

My face clean. Clean of makeup, clean of tears, clean of the meltdown my heart is having.

I let it escape for a moment or two...

The panic and the fear and the tears that accompanied them...

But when the hot water of the shower flowed over me, it took it all with.

I made it.

I forced it to.

Forced it all away.

For him.

I'll do it for him.

My husband that I love more than life itself.

I'll present a strong front, albeit a simple one.

Wet hair pulled back in a ponytail, jeans and a plain, simple tee. A cardigan thrown over my arm, converse on my feet.

Just me.

Together but not.

Emmett nods as I make it to the bottom of the stairs.

Takes my small overnight bag and leads me out of our house.

Edward's and mine.

Our house that I don't want to be in for another second without the man who makes this ridiculous monstrosity a home.

The man who's somewhere else.

The man who needs _me _somewhere else.

The man who needs me...

To be strong.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

I don't crumble when Emmett tells me what he knows about the accident.

Or how many times they tried to call me.

How many times my phone shows me when I turn it on.

It's been off since yesterday.

Because I never left our cloud.

Our cloud that is dark now, like the ones overhead.

I've always loved storms...

Always...

But not anymore.

I don't love them now.

I don't love this one.

This one was too harsh.

Too vicious.

Too deceiving.

As I drifted in and out of sleep to its cruel symphony...

Lulled.

Tricked.

While it destroyed my perfect life.

And maybe the man I promised to spend it with.

My life.

Perfect until now...

Perfect no more.

Shattered in an instant.

While I slept.

Dreamt...

Of him.

The man that waits for me to be by his side.

The only place I ever want to be.

And where I'll be strong.

"Are you ready?"

My voice cracks, betraying me as I utter the simple "Yes."

"You can do this, Bella. You can do it for Edward... I know you can. Find the strength, honey. Find it before we get in there."

I close my eyes and nod, breathing in and out, forcing my resolve into place, as Emmett comes around to open my door.

Wear a stone mask as he leads me through all of the cameras and questions waiting outside of the hospital doors.

Force down the pain that rises up when the _Where have you been?_s reach my ears and the flashbulbs go off in my face.

I pray I don't see the same in Edward's eyes...

If they're even open.

I pray and I pray and I pray with every step that leads me closer to him.

And the pain that I know is waiting for me there when I reach him.

_Please, God... _I pray.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

Pain.

And then not.

Light.

And then dark.

Sound.

And then silence.

Everything.

And then _nothing_.

Not even Bella.

_Please, God, let this be a dream..._

_Please let me wake up._

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

Esme Cullen is the first person I see when we reach the ICU.

Edward's mother.

Who I've never seen as I see now...

Distraught.

Her face is battered by tears.

Contorted by worry and fear.

Beaten by truth.

Rosalie is beside her.

Looking much the same.

And away from Emmett as we reach them.

Because he only represents more pain to her.

Pain that she brought upon herself.

And that I feel no sympathy for.

Not today.

In front of them, and turning to me now is Carlisle Cullen.

Edward's father.

And a neurosurgeon in this very hospital.

And that's what he is as he approaches me.

A doctor, not a father.

"Bella... "

But Carlisle the doctor is not who I want here at this moment.

"I just need to see him, Carlisle. The rest doesn't matter now. The details... the questions... the answers and explanations - that maybe I'll understand, and most likely won't...

"It can all wait. Please. I just want to see him. Want him to see me. Need him to see what he hasn't lost."

He takes a deep breath.

Then nods and smiles at me, taking my arm when Emmett releases my other.

Two men that love Edward.

And that I know have faith in me to be what he needs.

And when I enter the place where he is, I enter it alone.

And determined to be strong.

For the man who's never been anything but.

Until now.

When he is but he isn't.

His strength has been locked inside.

A place where I can't see it but know it's there.

I can only see the outside.

My beautiful husband that lies broken in a bed.

At least I think that's what it is.

This contraption that holds him.

And holds him still.

Immobile.

Something that Edward has never wanted to be.

Unless he was wrapped in my arms.

And then only sometimes...

But this isn't that.

My arms aren't around him now.

And can't be through that thing that confines him.

That holds him prisoner.

And keeps him safe.

Protected.

This thing that I love and hate all at once.

Love for cradling him.

Hate because it is and I'm not.

I'm not...

Can't...

But I still want to touch him.

So he knows that I'm here.

Even though his eyes aren't open.

Just one touch...

Soft.

Gentle.

Sweet.

What he loves from me even when he's not.

And so I search for a place...

Where maybe he feels no pain...

And then I search for another...

Because the first is too hard.

The place that I know.

That they think...

He might feel nothing at all.

I hope they're wrong...

For him.

And I don't even know if he knows...

But I won't think about that now.

What he knows or doesn't.

Because right now I just want him to know that I'm here.

With him.

Where I'll always be.

So I lean over him as carefully as I can...

Stroke his hair.

And kiss his strong jaw.

And then his mouth.

Softly.

Whisper "I'm here" against it.

And pray that he hears me.

Feels me.

While I pray for strength.

And for him.

His that I can't see.

And mine that I'll make sure he does.

When he opens his eyes and sees me beside him.

Where I'll always...

Always be.

**xx**

**You're probably wishing now that this had been a cheatward story... **

**But it's not, and here's what else it isn't. And what I'm not. I'm not a doctor. And this isn't a 'medical' story. I'm going to use as little technical terminology as I can. Not because I'm lazy... because, believe me, I've read and read and read... researched until my eyes, and brain, gave out on me. But at the end of all of that, and all of the time it took me to get this finished - because I thought I needed to (use it) - I decided I don't. It's not how I want to tell the story. The story about _them_. Edward and Bella. And the painful struggle that lies before them. And in that hospital bed. That's what this is. It's a story. A piece of fiction. Something my heart and my head dreamed up. And that's how I'm going to tell it. And whether I hear a word from any of you... whether any of you choose to stay to hear it... we'll still be here. Telling it from the heart. **

**And for anyone who does, and wants to 'see' them... the them in my mind and heart... they'll be up on my fb before the day is over. I won't say anything more about _that_ here. Or now.**


	5. Chapter 5: Faith

**Twilight still belongs to SM. Faith is mine. And some of theirs...**

**Chapter Five: Faith**

**Edward**

She's here.

I can feel her. Smell her. Hear her soft whispers.

Her prayers...

To God.

Her_ I love you_s...

To me.

That I can't answer. Can't return.

Not because I don't...

I just _can't_.

Can't tell her. Can't touch her. Can't even open my eyes to look at her.

Can't...

A word I've always hated. A word I've never believed in.

Until now.

That it's taken everything away from me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Bella**

His eyelids flutter. His fingers twitch. His lips speak silent words. When I talk to him. Or touch him.

He knows I'm here. He can hear me. And feel me. I know that he can.

He waited for me to get here. And he knows now that I came.

And I'll wait as long as I have to...

For him to open his eyes.

To see me. And show me.

And for his lips...

To tell me.

And his hands...

To guide me.

Like they always have.

All of them...

The parts of him.

Shown me everything he needs.

Because he knows I love him. Enough.

Trust him. Enough.

To give it all.

Myself.

And to be...

Enough.

More...

All.

To him.

And what he doesn't tell me...

Show me...

I'll figure out on my own.

Because he put his life in my hands.

His future.

Like I did with him. The day we said our vows.

Our vows that warned us that things may not always be perfect. That they could get hard...

Tough...

Someday.

But that we said anyway. Because we loved each other enough.

More...

Than whatever might come our way.

And whatever did.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"You should get some sleep."

"I'm fine."

"Bella... "

"I'm _fine_, Carlisle. And he's going to wake up soon. I know he is. And I'm going to be awake when he does."

"At least eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Bella, you need-"

"What I need is my husband. To wake up and see me here. By his side. Waiting for him to tell me what he needs."

"You might not be able to give him-"

"Don't."

"_Okay_. But it's going to be a long road. You'll need strength to get down it."

"Don't worry about me. All of the strength I need is in this room."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"He's moving more."

"Have you seen any movement below-"

"Not yet."

"Bella, he may never-"

"I said not _yet_."

"I know you did."

"And he _is_ moving more. And I don't have to be a doctor to know that's good."

"Some of the swelling is going down. Relieving pressure. It is a good sign... But-"

"No buts."

"You should be prepared for-"

"I'm prepared, Carlisle. I love your son. No matter what."

"I know that, Bella, but-"

"No. Buts."

"I have a very stubborn daughter-in-law."

"Yes, you do."

"And tough. Much tougher than she looks."

"Also true."

"I suppose I should be grateful for that."

"You should."

"It's going to get hard, Bella. Harder than this. I just-"

"I know."

"He-"

"Carlisle, I _know_. Whatever happens. However hard. _For better or for worse._ It doesn't matter that we didn't know what they could mean... I _meant _those words. And Edward will never not know that."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"Do you need anything before I go?"

"Just for you to take your mother with you."

"Bella!"

"Lower your voice, Rose. And Bella, _what_? All she does is sit in this room and cry. And that's not what I want him to see when he opens his eyes. She needs to get it under control. So, until she can, take her with you."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

The pictures flash through my mind like I'm watching a movie of my life.

A movie that plays too fast...

As if it's stuck in fast forward.

It's cruel.

I want to slow it down.

To stop it.

Rewind.

And pause.

Anything but this.

Me on the field...

Stealing third base.

Running home on the next swing.

Wins.

Losses.

Highs.

Lows.

Highs again.

The highest...

Bella in my arms...

Laughing...

Happy...

As I twirl her around the gleaming wooden dance floor.

Her flowing white dress brushing against my legs.

Her laughter flowing across my face.

The love in her eyes swallowing me whole.

The trust.

The hope.

Of the future I promised her.

The future thats sweetness I taste in her lips. Passion I feel in her delicate fingers in my hair. Her arms around my neck. Her tongue on my jaw. And everywhere.

Mine on her. Everywhere...

Nearly every day.

Days that fly by.

Fly past.

Planes I flew away from her in.

The ones I flew with her in.

And the one I didn't.

Rain I ran with her in. Her in my arms. As we got drenched. Our picnic ruined...

Our day _not_.

She pulled me in when I put her in the passenger seat of her Jeep.

Pushed down her shorts. Ripped down mine.

Slid her hands into my dripping wet hair. Crushed her mouth against mine.

Wet. Hungry...

Every part of her.

For me.

That she begged me to take. Right there.

And that I took in the cramped space of her front seat.

The sweet, tight space of _her_. Her that clung to me. All of her...

Sopping wet. And loving every second of it.

Loving me. Screaming that love at me.

And then it's gone.

And it's my own screams I hear...

Glass shattering instead of my wife beneath me.

Promises I made to her... _broken_.

With my bones.

And the crunch of metal.

While the rain soaked everything.

Destroyed it.

My career...

That I know is over. They don't have to tell me. I feel it.

And don't.

And my life...

The one I was trying to get back to...

The one I chose...

My beautiful, loving wife that I made promises to.

My beautiful, loving wife who trusted me to keep them.

Keep her...

Laughing.

Dancing.

Happy.

And full.

In every way.

And I know before I open my eyes that she knows I can't. That I'll let her down. That I already have.

Broken every promise I ever made her. Without saying a word.

And no matter what happens...

No matter what's waiting for me when I look at her...

The first words I want to speak will be the easiest part. And the hardest.

As I open my eyes.

See her beautiful face.

And do.

"I'm... sorry... Bella."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"Sorry? Oh, baby, what are you sorry for? You came back to me."

A tear rolls down his cheek and takes my heart with it on its downward descent. How could he speak those words to me? How could they be his first? After the agonizing silence I waited through?

And his eyes...

The fear in them...

A different fear than the one I expected to see.

In eyes that close when I wipe the tears from his face.

The ones that followed the first.

And are drowning my sinking heart.

"Everything's going to be okay, Edward. Somehow. We'll make it okay. You and me. Together."

I know they might not be the right words. Or the best ones.

But I believe them. And I want him to. And others...

And _see _them.

And I want to see when he does.

"Don't take those beautiful eyes away from me. I just got them back."

They open again slowly... but the pain and fear in them is the same. And the sorrow. And it hurts so much...

But I can't let it break me.

"You scared me. For a little while there. I thought you wanted to leave me. But that was ridiculous... for me to think that... even for a second. Because you never would. You love me too much. And you know I love you too much. And you'd never do that to me. Take you away. Before we finished our forever. The one we barely started."

He looks down at his hand in mine.

And my other over the top of his.

The one that wears his rings.

My promises.

My vows.

That I hope he hears as he stares at them.

The ones I silently scream at him now. Repeat again and again.

As I watch him.

This man that is my life.

The one that I chose.

And that I will fight for. Fight _with _if I have to. To make him believe...

That I still would.

Always would.

Always will.

As long as God gives me breath.

"Thank you for not leaving me. Even though I was silly to think you would. Ever could...

"And forgive me for being selfish. Keeping you to myself. Not letting anyone know you're awake."

He grips my hand as I start to pull away.

And I bend to kiss his.

Grateful that he can feel it.

Me.

_Anything_.

And isn't afraid to show me. To trust me with his fear. That I've never seen. Never felt from him. In his hands that are still strong.

And his eyes that showed me his weakness.

His fear of it.

"I'll never leave you," I whisper, my hand back on his.

His that's gripping mine tightly...

So tight it hurts.

Hurt that I don't fight to stop. Or take away.

I'll take any pain he wants to inflict on me.

Welcome it.

Endure it and embrace it.

Because he needs me to. Needs to know I can.

Will...

For him.

Because he's afraid. That he'll never be able to give me more.

_Other_.

Him.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

My wife is a rock.

Sturdy. Strong. And tough.

For me.

Like I'm supposed to be.

For her.

Want to be.

But can't.

Now.

And maybe never again. It's what the doctors said...

Words I didn't want to hear. Didn't want confirmed.

Words she yelled at them for saying to me.

For thinking could define me.

At that moment or any.

Because she doesn't.

And doesn't look at me any differently. Or as any less.

Even though I am.

So much less than I've ever been. So much less than I promised her I'd be.

With what I _was_.

I'm no different in her eyes. I see no less in them. Feel no less in her touch. That burns my skin with its love.

Not pity.

None.

In either.

Not an ounce.

Or a trace.

Not like in my mother's. And my sister's.

It's all I see in theirs.

All I feel in their awkward almost-touches that they think will break me if they connect.

The me that they think already is.

Broken. Weak. And pitiful.

I even see it when they look at her.

Bella...

They feel sorry for her. For what the man she married has been reduced to.

Even my father's eyes are different. Not different with pity, but something...

An altered pride.

A _less_.

And less hope than I wanted to see.

His eyes don't give me much. And he takes them away when he sees me searching.

Bella doesn't.

Doesn't take anything away from me.

My beautiful wife...

She truly is a rock.

A diamond.

Rare.

Remarkable.

Priceless.

Unbreakable.

As is her love for me.

And her faith.

_In _me.

Like someone else's.

Emmett's.

It hasn't changed.

He's the strongest guy I know. And the toughest. Who hates weakness...

And doesn't look at me like he sees any. And doesn't look at my wife with pity.

Emmett loves Bella. He fell in love with her the moment he met her.

Like I did.

But different, of course...

He told me she was special. That she'd change my life. And not to be afraid to let her.

Emmett, who doesn't even believe in that sort of thing. For himself.

But did for me.

Does.

And for her. The woman he said made me a man.

Not a better...

An _a_.

That he still believes I am.

Like she does.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"My poor baby... he's never going to walk again. Or play baseball. Or do anything that he loves. His life is _over_."

"Don't you ever say those words again in this room!"

"Bella, I've had about enough of you giving me orders. He's not even here. He can't hear-"

"_I_ can hear you. And I mean it, Esme. Never again."

"Edward is _my _son. I love him. And my heart aches for what happened to him. And-"

"Then act like it! Act like a mother that _loves_. Act like a mother that hurts, even... but give him support. Show him faith, and hope, and encouragement... but do _not _show him your pity! Keep it for yourself!"

"At least I feel _something _for him, which is more than I can say for _you_! You're probably already planning your exit, and how many of his millions you'll get to take with you! And when you leave him, I'll _still _be his mother. And you'll just be a bad memory in his shattered life!"

I slap her so hard the sting in my own hand brings tears to my eyes.

Tears that threaten to spill over as I realize the doors are open.

Because they were wheeling Edward back into his room.

Edward who saw what I did.

And heard what she said.

And not only him...

Carlisle is on one side of him.

A nurse on the other.

And my father...

Who I didn't even know was in town yet.

And Emmett beside him, who had only stepped out for a few minutes.

And they all look stunned.

And angry.

All but the nurse, who - once Edward is secured - rushes quickly from the room and closes the door behind her.

Then the stunned, angry silence is broken.

But when Edward speaks, I know his anger is not at me. Because there's hurt in his eyes, too.

"If you ever talk to my wife like that again, you won't have a son. Apologize to her. Now. And then leave."

"Edward, she slapped me! Me! Your _mother_. You should be demanding that she respect me! I will not-"

"Come back here again."

"Edward," Carlisle sighs, "You know she didn't mean it. Your mother loves Bella. Emotions are high and-"

"I said she won't come back. If you have a problem with that, Dad, then you don't need to, either."

Carlisle looks apologetically at me, and nods his head at his son. "Rosalie, take your mother home."

"Dad, I didn't-"

"Let's not forget why we're here. Your brother wants her to go. Take her. Now."

Esme starts to protest, but he puts his hand up, silencing her.

And infuriating her.

She storms from the room, shooting daggers at her husband, and at me, and turning her back on her son without another word.

Rose follows behind her, but pauses at the door. "I'll be back tomorrow, Edward. I love you. And Bella... I'm sorry for what she said... "

Her words trail off, and she doesn't say any more, and I don't say anything at all, and neither does Edward, and she lets the door close behind her.

And it frustrates me...

Because I don't give a damn about what Esme said to me. I know she'll regret saying it. Because there's not an ounce of truth to it. Everyone in this room knows that. And Rose didn't need to apologize to me for it. For her mother. It's not what she should feel bad about.

And it's not why I slapped her.

I slapped her because of what she said about Edward.

And maybe I was wrong to do it...

But her words enraged me.

Her words about her son.

I wanted her to realize that she was wrong to say them. Feel the sting of it.

Know that her son deserved more than her pity.

No...

Not more than...

_Different _than.

He deserves _none _of it.

I just wanted her to understand that.

That the man lying in that bed right now is the same man that was running on a baseball field last week.

The man she was proud of.

The man she _still _should be proud of.

The man she believed was capable of anything...

A week ago.

I wanted her to see that he still _is_.

That her son...

My husband...

Is no less a man today.

But could have been.

He could have been nothing.

He could have been taken from us.

Ripped away.

The man that we both love.

Could have lost his life.

Doesn't she know that?

How much worse it could have been?

We could not have him at all...

But we do.

His life _isn't_ over.

And I will thank God every single day for the rest of mine for not taking him from me.

And do whatever I can to help him find happiness again.

Happiness in new things and in new ways.

And I will never... _ever_... give up hope.

He'll never see it gone from me.

Or my passion for him. And his life. That maybe in this instance I expressed in a way I shouldn't have.

"I'm sorry," I whisper as he holds his hand out for me. "I got upset and-"

"Don't apologize for the way you love me, Bella. The way you want other people to."

He didn't just hear her.

He heard me, too.

And even though my words to her were _for _him...

Knowing that he heard me...

That I had to say them...

It's even worse.

It gave hers more weight.

"I'm not sorry for that," I say. "But I-"

"Should go give your dad a hug. You don't think he came here to see my ugly face, do you?"

"Hell yes," I laugh, "You're his favorite person in the whole world. With the most beautiful face. As you know."

"Second favorite, maybe," he smiles, "And second most beautiful face. And get over there so he can see the first."

"It's okay, Edward," my dad says, coming up beside me and wrapping his arms around me. "I put her in your hands... and I knew from that moment on that she'd never leave them. Not for anything."


	6. Chapter 6: Footsteps

**Chapter Six: Footsteps**

**Edward**

"That wife of yours sure is stubborn."

"You mean your daughter that you raised to be that way?"

"The very one."

"Yes, she is."

"Yet you still got her to listen to you. I'm impressed."

"That's because I put my foot down." I laugh at the absurdity of my words and Charlie smiles instead of giving me the piteous half-smile I might have gotten from most anyone else. And I'm grateful for it. Like I am for his stubborn daughter. "And she only listened to me because I don't do that very often, if ever."

"Still getting her way most of the time?"

"Come on Charlie... you know how hard it is to say no to that face."

"Yes, I do. And I imagine the ones she gives you are even harder to resist."

They are.

Impossible.

And unbearable to think that I may never see some of them again.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"I'm done, let's go back."

"You've had two bites of that hamburger and _maybe _three fries."

"And now I want to go back to the hospital."

"He'll kill me if I take you back now."

"No, he won't. He wanted you to make sure I ate something and got some fresh air. I've done both. Your mission is complete."

"Two bites of a hamburger and a couple of fries doesn't constitute eating something."

"Yes it does. And we're sitting outside, so-"

"I'm not Edward, you know. And I don't give in that easily. Eat."

"And I don't take orders from anyone but my husband."

"Your husband is wrapped around your little finger, so... What kind of orders do you take from him exactly?"

"I'm going to tell him you asked me that, Emmett... and then he really will kill you."

He laughs and takes a huge bit of his hamburger, gesturing for me to do the same. And I do... a very big and unladylike bite. Which makes him laugh again.

"You know that's why he married you, right?"

"Shut up," I say, my mouth still full of food.

"Actually, if I recall correctly, and to further prove my point, he proposed to you just a few hours after he watched you eat a hot dog."

"Coincidence. And again... Shut. Up."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, pretty girl."

"I'm not doing that so much these days."

All humor falls from his face and he nods his head. "I know. And he knows that, too. And he knew I couldn't force you to rest, so at least do this for him."

"I'd do anything for him."

"I know, Bella. And all he wants is to see a little color in your cheeks and not hear the rumble of your dwindling stomach."

"Dwindling? My stomach is flat, thank you, and it always was."

"It used to be flat, now it's concave. And my boy doesn't like it."

"Okay, I hear you."

I know he's right, my clothes are fitting a little looser these days... or maybe a lot looser, but as long as Edward is still confined to his hospital bed, by his side is where I'll be. Lavish or well balanced meals are the least of my concern, and by no means a priority.

"He has enough to deal with. Seeing you waste away right before his eyes is adding stress and worry he doesn't need."

"I said I hear you."

"Okay. Just making sure you're listening."

I am.

To things I hear and things I don't.

Things Edward doesn't say.

Things that, with every passing day that he can't get out of that bed, scream at me from inside of him.

From his eyes and the touch of his hand and the ever changing rhythm of his breathing.

I'm listening.

And I know things are going to get rough...

When the day comes that he can't hold it in anymore.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Edward smiles when we come into the room.

"I stuffed her like a Thanksgiving turkey," Emmett announces proudly. "I even got her to eat an ice cream cone."

"Good man," Edward says, then reaches for my hand. "Thank you for being a good girl."

"You mean for letting you get a break from my face?" I tease, "Well, I'm a little hurt by the fact that you wanted it, but I'll get over it, I suppose. Eventually. As long as it made you happy."

"I think there was something in your ice cream, sweetheart... because you're talking incoherent nonsense. I'll never want a break from your face."

"Likewise. So, how was your male bonding time with my dad? And where is he? He wasn't supposed to leave you."

"It was good. We talked about you, and how stubborn you are. And your face, actually. That we both love. And he's only been gone about two minutes, _Warden_. He had a phone call. Sue had a washing machine emergency. It grew arms or something."

"Sounds scary."

But not nearly as scary as those things I can't hear...

But _do_.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"I want you to go home, Bella. And sleep in our bed."

"No."

"Yes."

"Aren't you getting tired of this nightly conversation, Edward?"

"Yes, I am. So, be a good, obedient wife so we don't have to have it anymore."

"I don't want to sleep in it without you."

"But I would sleep better if I knew you were. I don't like to see you sleep on that stupid thing. Or _not _sleep, more accurately."

She purposely avoids looking at the miserable excuse for a bed that she's been laying her head on every night since the morning I left her in ours. Every night, that is, that she doesn't fall asleep in the chair next to me with my hand cradled in hers.

Every night after we have this same conversation.

Every night that I give in and let her.

Every night _because _I give in and let her.

Which I'm not going to do again tonight.

"I'm not asking you, Bella."

"Don't do that, Edward."

"Go home, take a long, hot, relaxing bath, and crawl into our bed. And tomorrow morning, after you've had a peaceful night's sleep, and a good breakfast with your dad, you can come back and let me see your beautiful, _rested _eyes."

"I'll sleep, I promise. I-"

"Yes, you will... at _home_."

"Edward, please-"

"No. Now, give me a kiss goodnight and get out of here."

She leans down and rests her forehead against mine, a pout on her mouth, and her eyes sad and pleading - and I nearly crumble - but I won't give in this time. I can't let myself.

Not because I don't want her here. It would be so much easier to beg her to stay with me, to never leave me, but I can't do that. "I'll see you in the morning?"

Her simple but not "Mm-hmm" response nearly kills me, and threatens my resolve a second time - which is exactly what she meant it to do - as does the kiss she gives me now. A kiss so full of devotion it would damn well make me weep... if I weren't trying to be so damn strong.

"Goodnight," she whispers against my mouth, "I love you."

And I can't explain the why, even to myself, that I don't say anything.

Why I watch in silence as she grabs her things and walks to the door.

Why, when she turns back to look at me, I just stare at her and watch her walk through it.

Or why it hurts so much that she did.

Let me push her way.

_Order _her away.

Or why...

I did.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I can't sleep.

My eyes won't close.

And won't stop moving.

From the bed she doesn't sleep in to the empty chair beside me.

To my hand...

That can't feel her.

Because I sent her away.

Without any words.

And without the ones I haven't shared with her.

I've felt things.

In my legs.

Twitches.

Tingles.

Seconds of hope.

That left me as quickly as they came.

I haven't told her about them...

Because she already has hope.

And I don't want to give her reason to have any more.

And have it crushed.

Because the doctors told me it might not mean anything.

But I know she'd never accept that.

That it didn't.

She'd think it meant everything.

And that we'd get it back.

The everything that was taken from her while she slept in our bed.

That I left her in.

And that I may never return to her in.

I'd give anything to have that day back...

The chance to choose her.

Before it was too late.

To turn back before I walked through that door.

Instead of on that rain-slickened road.

Something else I haven't told her.

And something I never will.

She can't ever know.

That she's in our bed alone because I turned around and went back to be there with her.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I haven't been in our house in weeks...

Other than to shower and change my clothes, before rushing straight back to Edward's side.

I haven't wanted to be here without him.

I've spent a lot of time in our house alone...

But it was different then.

It was just for a night, or a string of a few at a time.

Never for weeks or months.

And never not knowing I'd eventually hear his footsteps telling me he'd come home to me.

Being here without him now is so different...

In every possible way.

I don't know when he's coming home this time. Don't know how many nights I'll have to spend without him. How many nights I'll have to sleep without him next to me. And don't know if I'll ever hear his footsteps in this house again.

I can accept the fact that I may not...

If that's what our future holds.

But I have hope.

And knowledge that he doesn't know I have.

Things he's been hiding from me.

Even when they've happened right in front of my eyes.

Edward has experienced feeling in his legs.

It goes quickly...

But he's had it.

It's come.

Emmett told me.

And that he didn't want me to know.

Didn't want to get my hopes up.

And as much as I want to yell and scream at him for keeping me in the dark about it...

I don't say a word.

Because I don't want him to think his best friend betrayed him.

Edward's accident has shown him how many true friends he has. And the longer he doesn't get out of that bed of his own power, the fewer there seem to be.

His teammates were flooding the hospital in the beginning. As much as their crazed schedules would allow. But as days turned into weeks, there are only a small handful that still come.

I think most of them just don't know what to say. And others just can't handle the look in his eyes when he asks them about a game. A game they know he wished he'd have played with them. A game he should have...

And there were others that couldn't stand to look at him at all. Their team captain that couldn't lead them anymore. A few even seemed angry about that. Like it was his fault. His fault that they're a little lost. Without him. And that they _have_. They've lost every game but two since his accident. The media's come down hard on them. And so have the fans. Said again and again that he'd been carrying them. The man who could do it all, and did, but couldn't anymore. That their team was nothing without him.

It enrages Edward to see and hear those things. And me to see firsthand that some of them even bought into it.

I kicked more than one of them out of his room.

And he let me.

Before he kicked me out tonight.

And sent me home to our house that his footsteps won't break the silence in.

The silence that I try to break in other ways.

Like with the washing machine that holds our sheets that I stripped off of our bed.

The ones I wanted to leave on.

Because the last time we were in them...

Edward _did_ do it all.

But as much as I wanted to, to wrap myself up in them would feel like I'd given up hope.

Something I'll never do.

And never lose.

For him.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I tried to do what Edward wanted.

Took a long, hot bath.

Climbed into our bed.

But I didn't sleep much.

I tried...

But I just couldn't.

It started to rain at around midnight.

Thunder and lightning and the whole works.

A storm much like the one that brewed the last time I was in our bed.

But unlike the last time, I wasn't oblivious to its warning.

I climbed from the bed and added a pair of shorts to my simple sleep attire of one of Edward's t-shirts.

I wandered the house...

Our house that Edward loves...

And tried to figure out how wrong it would be for him if he couldn't walk through it.

What changes could be made to make it right for him if he didn't.

Not because my hope for him to is any less...

But because not considering the reality we could be faced with would be selfish.

Irresponsible.

And unfair.

To him.

I would need to move our bedroom downstairs.

Or see if an elevator could be installed to take him up.

In case.

Furniture would have to be moved to create more open spaces.

Less intimate, but better.

For him.

In case.

I'd have to rearrange our kitchen. The places we keep things. Make sure nothing he wanted or needed was out of his reach.

Just in case it was shortened.

There's a lot to be done.

A lot to prepare for.

If that hope he didn't want me to have is crushed.

I just have to figure out how to do it all...

For him.

Without crushing his.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I get back to the hospital a little later than I expected to.

I had a nice breakfast with my dad like Edward told me to.

And even took an extra few minutes to add a little color to my cheeks - since my eyes would give away the order I hadn't been able to follow.

But that's not what made me late.

My mind was in overdrive.

With all of those things I might need to do.

And the time I would have to spend away from him to get them done.

And the guilt I felt for thinking about it.

And the argument my mind had with my heart that to not was wrong.

But all of that disappears when I open Edward's door...

Because he's laughing.

And I haven't heard him do that in a while.

Emmett is in the room with him.

And his next closest friend and teammate, Jasper.

A newspaper in front of them.

"Good morning, baby," Emmett says with a ridiculous grin, making Edward punch him in the arm.

"_Baby_?" I ask, not understanding the joke.

Jasper bids me a quick and polite good morning, but laughs as he lets Edward say his, and hopefully explain.

"If Emmett hadn't been here for the last hour, I might be worried about how long it took you to get here," Edward says with narrowed eyes before he smiles at me. "But he has been, so I'm not. Good morning, beautiful."

"Good morning. And I might be sorry about being a little late, but that far-more-beautiful-than-me laugh I heard makes it hard to be."

He pulls me down for a kiss and then hands me the newspaper with a chuckle.

There's a picture of Emmett and I on our ordered-by-my-husband lunch date. And a ridiculous headline about the horrific betrayal of the not-so-loyal-wife and the best friend of Seattle's golden boy, while he lies wounded and broken in his bed.

I barely skim the article before shoving it at Emmett, knowing he's without a doubt the one who brought it here. "Why did you even bring that? It's not funny."

"You can't be mad at me, Bella, it made Edward laugh."

"And as much as I loved hearing that, the Edward I married would be _angry_, not amused. So, I guess I just don't get it."

"Hey," Edward says, grabbing my hand, "I _am_, and my lawyer has already been called, and my agent, as well as Emmett's. We'll own their asses by noon, for slandering _you_. But behind closed doors, and only to us, the absolute absurdity of it is a little funny."

"Your mother thinks I'm a gold digger, and now the rest of the world thinks I'm a heartless adulteress...

"Forgive me if I don't see the humor, Edward, but by all means, laugh your heart out. I'd deny you nothing that makes you happy."

"Bella-" Edward starts, as Emmett and Jasper both mutter apologies and make to leave us alone, before I hold my hand up to stop them all.

"No. It's not about me, and I shouldn't have made it. Or spoiled the party. You guys stay, I'll go...

"I'm sorry, Edward. I don't ever want to be the reason you stop laughing."

But as I ignore his protests and rush from his room, all I can think is how much it hurts to be the reason he started again.

And to not.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I don't know how many times I screamed her name...

But Bella didn't stop or come back.

And then I was screaming someone else's, as the cruel reality that I couldn't run after my own wife smashed into my chest. "Emmett! Go get her!"

That was over two hours ago.

And wherever she went, he didn't find her.

Didn't bring her back to me.

And she's still not here with me now.

Not by my side.

The only place I'll ever want her.

The only place I know she really wanted to be.


	7. Chapter 7: Sorry

**Twilight is SM's. Sorry is mine. More than you realize.  
><strong>

**Chapter Seven: Sorry  
><strong>

**Bella**

"Can I talk to you before you go in there?"

I turn around to see my mother-in-law, today's rag of rumors clutched in her hand. "About _that_? No."

"I'm sorry, Bella," she says as I turn my back on her, "So very sorry... "

"Then you should go back home. Because your _sorrow _isn't welcomed here."

"I'm not talking about my son. I'm talking about _you_, and the hurtful things I said to you. The horrible, vicious things I didn't mean, could never mean, and should never, ever have said."

I spin back around to face her, and call her on her lie. "Didn't mean? You meant every word. You were just waiting for an opportunity to give some validity to your suspicions...

"Your true thoughts about me - that I've known about since the beginning - but that I stupidly believed that I had managed to change. Don't apologize to me, Esme. It doesn't matter that I was wrong, and it doesn't matter how wrong you are - and always have been - about the way you see me.

"What matters is the way you see your son. And the faith and pride you don't have in him. He's the one that you should apologize to, not me. He's the one you hurt."

"My son won't even see or talk to me... because of you. He-"

"And you think throwing some empty apology at me will change that?"

"Empty? Bella... I said I was sorry because I am. There's no excuse for what I said to you. And certainly no validity in it. You're the best thing that ever happened to him. The best thing in his life. And there hasn't been a day since he married you that I didn't know that."

"You mean since the day after he ripped up the prenup you had drawn up and threw it in your face?"

"I really wish he hadn't told you about that... "

"He didn't. Emmett did. And how much it hurt him. How much _you _hurt him with your lack of faith in him. Like you still have now. And you're _still _hurting him with."

I don't give her a chance to respond, or say anything else, and walk into my husband's room. The one I ran out of hours ago...

And that I'll never leave again.

Unless he tells me to.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"I'm sorry."

I never heard those words from my wife's mouth - other than in a playful game - until I was in this room, stuck in this damn bed. She's never said them to me. Never had to. Has never done a thing to be sorry for.

Never...

And hearing them now hurts. And knowing that she thinks she has.

Hurts, like the fear that it's for the wrong reason.

"Don't be sorry for being hurt, Bella. Never apologize to me for how you feel - or how I make you feel. If you're going to be sorry for anything, be sorry for running away from me... when you know I can't run after you and bring you back."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

The time of night is coming when Edward will tell me to leave him.

The ticking of the clock thunders in my ears, every second that passes like a jackhammer on my head.

And my heart.

And every part of my body.

Because I hate it when he makes me leave him.

I hate the empty feel of our bed without him in it.

And the cold that settles on my skin without him near.

It doesn't matter how long it's been since I fell asleep in his arms.

Or how long it still may be until I can.

He'd let me if he could. I think.

But knowing that he chooses not to let me see them empty and missing me is hard.

I fear that it's getting easier for him.

For me to not be there.

And here.

Or anywhere...

With him.

"Come here," he says quietly, pulling on my hand that already grips his tightly for as long as it can.

I let him pull me to a stand and lean over him, trying to conceal my hurt as I kiss him sweetly.

The goodnight I leave him with every.

"Not this time," he says, pulling me onto the bed with him.

"What?" I ask, not understanding.

"I want you to stay with me tonight."

"You do?"

"Yes, Bella, I _do_. It's the last night I get to choose."

"You choose every night," I remind him, still confused.

"But tomorrow I won't have a choice."

Edward is being transferred to a rehab facility tomorrow. And I won't be able to see him like I do now. Won't be able to spend my days by his side. Or my nights, even if he'd let me.

"It's hard not having a choice," I say, but regret it instantly. "I'm sorry, Edward... I-"

"Don't be sorry. It _is _hard. You don't have to hide that from me. In fact, I order that you don't. Or leave."

"Okay. That's easy."

"Is it?"

"Not leaving you? Of course it is. It's the easiest part of my life. Easier than breathing, even."

"I wish I could say that asking you not to was just as easy for me."

"You never have to ask me not to. You just have to stop telling me that I have to."

"I love you, Bella. Please never forget that. No matter what else I say."

"I know you do, Edward. And I promise I won't." _Ever._

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I couldn't tell Bella to go home tonight.

Couldn't bear to see the hurt in her eyes again.

Or be the one to put it there.

_Again_.

I told her I didn't want to not have a choice.

The choice I won't have tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next...

Because I needed her to know, that when I did, it was her.

Words that are getting harder for me to say...

The longer that I can't show her.

I've never been the kind of person who gave up...

On anything.

And certainly not when I wanted something.

And I'm not giving up now...

But I'm struggling.

I wanted to walk out of here.

Not be carried out.

Or wheeled.

I wanted to do it of my own power.

Wanted Bella to see me do it.

Instead of see me fail to.

Bella's never seen me fail before.

Never known I wanted something and watched me fail to claim it.

If you asked her, I know she'd say there's nothing I can't have. And nothing I can't do. If I wanted it enough. Or at all.

She believes it's that simple for me. Knows that the hardest thing I ever worked for was making her love me.

The greatest challenge of my life.

And my greatest accomplishment.

Bella loves me.

I know it every time she looks at me.

Every time she smiles at me.

Every time she speaks my name.

And even when she doesn't.

Like now...

When she lies silent and achingly still in my arms.

The way she fell asleep.

Still, because she was afraid she'd hurt me somehow if she moved.

And silent, I think, because she was afraid that the sound of her would make me change my mind and hurt _her_.

But neither of those things will happen.

She can't hurt me. Unless her movement is to leave me.

And I won't change my mind.

Because I don't want her to leave. I never want her to leave. I never wanted her to...

And don't as I lie here with her...

Feeling her...

Her head on my chest...

Her hair beneath my arm around her...

And over it...

Like her hand over my heart...

I _feel_ her.

And don't...

Her legs...

That I _can't_ against mine.

But that I remember the feel of.

The entanglement of.

The _shelter_ of.

The want and need and love of as they pulled me closer to her...

Pulled me deeper inside...

Held me.

And kept me there.

Begging me never to leave her.

I remember...

I'll never forget.

But wish I had the chance to choose again.

The choice to not fail us both.

The chance to ask her to stay...

Instead of forcing her away.

**...**

**FBoFW  
><strong>

**...  
><strong>

I know this is the first time Bella's slept peacefully in weeks.

Because it's the first time I've let her sleep with me.

Not just in my room...

But in my bed.

In my arms.

Where she never asked me if she could be.

And wouldn't have.

But where I had to have her.

Despite the rules that said I couldn't.

It made her happy that I broke them.

For her.

And for me.

And that I asked my dad to bring her a pair of scrubs to sleep in.

And that he did.

And then told everyone to leave us alone.

The doctor speaking for the father speaking for his son.

He understood what I needed.

And I think Bella will understand what I need now.

As a man.

And her husband...

Who needs to _be_.

Both.

In whatever way I can.

It's why I need to wake her, even though I hate to.

Because I won't walk out of here tomorrow.

Or maybe anywhere, ever again.

And knowing that hurts.

And that there are other things I may never again be able to do.

With her in my arms.

Peaceful.

And devoted.

Whether I will or I won't.

It hurts so fucking bad...

The choices I might not have...

The desperate, debilitating pain of their possibilities and nots.

And the excruciating need I feel to fight them.

That I need to fill...

Soothe...

The only way I can.

My fingers move over her face, and she stirs slightly, a smile forming on her mouth.

Her eyelids flutter as I move them down her neck and along her arm.

Her lips part as I slide them under her shirt against her skin.

A soft moan flows through them as I feel every inch of her.

And her eyes open slowly as I reach her breasts.

Meet mine as I tease and torment them.

And tell me she understands.

What I need and what I want.

From her.

And _for_ her.

What isn't enough, but what has to be.

What I pray will be as I untie the drawstring bow that keeps it from me.

And me from her.

And slide my hand inside.

And between.

Closer, but not where I need to be.

And not where I need her to feel me.

Not quite.

Even though she does.

The damp satin against her, proof.

I'm not the only one who wants.

And needs.

Her leg trembles in my hand as I pull it over me.

Rest it on mine.

And I look away from her for a moment...

From her eyes, down...

To see it there.

Because I can't feel it.

I could stare at it for hours.

Remembering what it felt like...

When I could.

And she'd let me...

If it was what I needed.

But she knows it's not.

Not what I need most.

She knows...

That what I need most is for _her_ to remember...

What _I_ feel like.

The only part of me I can give her now.

At least here...

In _this_ now.

When I feel her hand on my face.

And look up to meet her eyes again.

That are so filled with love and devotion it hurts.

They tell me she'll never leave me.

No matter what I become.

Or what I already have.

No matter what she can't feel...

But now I need to make her more than ever.

Feel _something_.

And slide my fingers beneath the last barrier.

Into the tears her body cries for me...

The ones she doesn't hide _from_ me.

And doesn't fight to hold back.

They fall freely into my hand.

Drench me.

As I cradle her.

Tell her I love her with every gentle stroke.

And every not.

I watch her face as I touch her.

Her eyes that she fights to keep open.

Her mouth that she doesn't.

Her breaths flow from it uneven and unrestrained.

And then don't as I slide one, and then two, fingers inside of her.

Because she sucks it in.

Like her body sucks me in.

The only me she can have now.

That I know isn't enough...

But that I try to make.

While I still have the chance to.

While I still have her...

And the fear that someday I won't.

Fear...

That flows unrestrained from my mouth...

Even as she comes apart in my hand.

Because it's all I can give her.

"I'm sorry, Bella... "

**xx**

**Ouch, Edward. **

**x**

**E/N: I'm sorry, too. Because updates to this, and every other story I write, are going to come even slower than before. My laptop suffered a catastrophic injury over the weekend. It was accidental and heartbreaking, and as much as I wish I could turn back time and stop it from happening, I can't. And as you can hopefully understand, that is going to make delivering updates very difficult for me. This only comes to you now because it was close to finished. It's the last thing that was. And as for my broken laptop... I don't have the means to replace it, or even to take it in to see if it can be resurrected. I wish I did. Believe me, I do. Because having lost it _hurts_. I considered putting everything on hold indefinitely - fearing I had no choice but to do so - but I don't want to. And I'll do my best to keep from having to do that. Somehow. If there's any possible way. That being said, I ask for your patience and understanding. I'm sorry.  
><strong>

**CM  
><strong>


	8. Chapter 8: Between All and Nothing

**Some love is real. This one, anyway.**

**Chapter Eight: Between All and Nothing**

**Edward**

I haven't absorbed any of what they've said or showed us.

Because I can't stop looking at my wife's face. Because she _is _absorbing it.

She's paying close attention to every detail of this place that's going to keep her from me.

And me from her.

A place that will change everything for us.

The place that will either give us hope...

Or smash it at our feet.

If mine can't meet hers.

Step beside her.

And sometimes in front of her...

Making sure the steps she takes will be safe.

I haven't paid a second of attention to this place...

But I hate it.

And the power it has.

To tell me I don't.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Mrs. Cullen, it's time for you to go."

Bella looks at the nurse like she's spoken a different language.

And like she wants to kill her...

But then she looks at me.

And just looks like she loves me.

"She doesn't know the rules," I tell her, and she smiles, even though I can see her fighting back tears she doesn't want to show me. And then I say the words I don't want to say, because I have to. Because she needs to hear them. From me. "But I do. And it's time for you to go, sweetheart."

She nods, and holds her breath for a moment. Then lets it out. With another smile. And with words I know she doesn't want to say, either. "Okay. But only because _you _say so."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I needed to hear Edward say the words.

Tell me I had to leave him.

Because no one else ever could. I'd never accept it.

I wouldn't accept it from him, either, if he really meant them...

But I accepted the ones he said. And the way he did mean them.

Because we have to follow someone else's rules for a while.

Instead of just our own.

Rules that I know were made for him. And other people like him.

Because they need things that all of the love in the world can't provide.

Edward needs more than I have to offer or give him.

And I had to leave him in that place so he could get it.

Except I didn't leave.

I made it as far as the stone path that would lead me away from him and couldn't go any further.

My eyes are glassy, and glued to the large double doors that separate me from my life. Locked it away from me. Him...

To help him discover his new. Without me.

I've never felt more alone as I stand here with the hard stone beneath my feet. Or more helpless.

Or more lost.

Because my place is _with _him...

But I'm out here...

Where I was made to come...

Where I'm not.

But also not as alone as I thought...

There's a hand at my back.

"Did he tell you to come?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

"He said not to let you stand here for too long."

"I don't want to... just stand here... I want... "

"I know. And he knows."

"But they won't let me."

"He would. If he could. You know that. He'd give you the world... "

"He _is _the world, Emmett. To me. He-"

"Wants to be _more_. If he can."

"He can't be more. He's already _all_."

He sighs and his hand slips around my waist, pulling me gently into his side. "That's why everything is going to be okay. And why you don't have to stand here. Why you can turn and go. He knows what your choice would be, Bella. Where you'd be, and where you'd stay, if you could."

"Does he?"

"Of course he does. And he knows you'll come back here, to him, every chance you're given to, until the day you can take him with you when you leave."

"I hope you're right. That he does know."

"I am. And he does. And _you _know that he wouldn't want you standing here like this."

I nod, because I do. And when he gives me a gentle nudge in the right direction, I force my legs to move. Which sends the tears unbidden down my cheeks... because it's something Edward may never again be able to do.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

My legs wouldn't carry me all the way to my Jeep... but Emmett did. And then climbed in and drove me home, where his monstrosity of an SUV was parked and waiting. Where he brought it and left it.

Because he knew I'd need help leaving that place.

A push.

Or a lift.

Or Edward did...

And made sure someone would be there to give me what he couldn't.

Someone who's still here and still trying to give me something. Anything. Because he loves his friend. And would do anything for him. And me.

"Rosalie is a fool. I just want to go on record and say that."

"Because she spent four years of her life with me?" he laughs.

"No. Because she let you go after she did. You're a great guy, Emmett."

"Well, thank you. That's quite a compliment coming from you."

"It's the truth. You really are. And she should have seen that."

"The only thing she saw is a man that wouldn't get down on one knee and pull a ring out of his pocket."

"I know she wanted that, but... to just... " I can't even finish my thought, because I just can't comprehend what she did. Or after, when she didn't get her way.

"She thought she could force me. By giving me an ultimatum. She was wrong."

"Everything or nothing isn't a fair choice to ask someone to make. Or tell them they have to. There's so much more than that. Filling every inch of the between... "

"And _that_, Bella, is exactly why I didn't give it to her. Because she doesn't see that. The between. The other. The more. Or the enough...

"Rose isn't like you. But she wants what you have. You and Edward... she wants it. It or nothing. And I couldn't give that to her, the it, because we didn't have that. I love her, but not enough to pretend I didn't know that.

"She doesn't love me like you love Edward. Isn't capable of it. I'm not everything to her. Not _all_, like you said earlier. And if it was me where Edward is right now... she wouldn't have had any trouble leaving me there today. She would have had trouble going in the first place. Or ever going back.

"You'll love Edward whether he stands up and walks out of there carrying you in his arms, or whether he never can again. But she'd have never waited around to even see which one it would be. That's the only thing she forced me to see. That's the choice I made when I chose nothing. Because that's all we really had. And all I really was to her."

I think back to one of Emmett's games early last season. Edward was away for a three game series, and I'd flown home after the second for the start of the school week. The Seahawks were playing on Monday night that week, and Rose and I went to watch Emmett play - something she rarely did, and I usually did with Edward if he was home and not playing a game of his own.

Emmett was having a great night, and had made some huge game-altering tackles, but then toward the end of the third quarter, he didn't get right up after one. I stood there with my hand over my mouth and tears pricking my eyes as the trainers ran out onto the field. He wasn't moving and I was scared for him. Terrified...

But when I looked over at Rose, who I thought was standing next to me, much the same way, she was in her seat, looking, not worried, but pissed off._ "It's Monday Night Football, for fucks sake, he needs to get up. He's embarrassing himself - and me - in front of the whole goddamn world."_

I couldn't believe my ears.

Or my eyes later that night, or the next day, and for several after... because a cameraman had apparently panned to us in the stands and caught Rose's less-than-concerned reaction to what was happening to her boyfriend on the field.

The media had a heyday with it.

"_Thanks for worrying about me, Bella," _Emmett had said to me the next night in our living room, leaning over Edward and kissing me on the cheek, after the clip flashed across our television screen for the thousandth time. He was okay, he'd just knocked the wind - and wits - out of himself for a few minutes and scared the shit out of _almost _all of us for nothing. _"It's nice to know someone was." _

Rose immediately got up and left, slamming the door behind her with a _"Fuck you!"_

And no one got up to stop her. I did feel a little bad for the beating she was taking in the media, but part of me felt like she deserved it, and I didn't say a word when Edward told her as much when she had showed up expecting sympathy from him.

She'd made her own bitch-bed and she was going to have to lie in it alone. Much like she is now, because Emmett moved out the day she gave him the ultimatum of 'Marry me or say goodbye'.

All or nothing...

With no regard for the everything between that was enough before she needed more.

No...

She's not like me...

And she'll never have what I have...

"What are you thinking about, Bella?"

What I _still _have.

And will always be what I need.

Edward...

No matter what.

"Everything, Emmett. Everything... "

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"Your life sure has changed, huh, _Superstar_?"

"Brilliant observation there, _Asshole_."

"We're _all_ assholes. And all trapped on the same sinking ship. We-"

"I'm not trapped on any sinking fucking ship."

"Sure you are, you're just up on the upper deck where your feet are still dry with false hope that the rescue ship will arrive before the water reaches you and you drown with the rest of us."

"You may be drowning, but I won't be joining you in those murky depths. I can swim, and-"

"Not anymore, you can't. You can't even tread now. You-"

"You have a fucking problem with me?"

"Not at all. I'm a fan, actually. Or _was_... like you _were_ a hell of a ball player. I'm just here to offer my expert advice and save you some time. Don't waste any of yours on hope. If you were going to walk again, you would have done it already. And the sooner you accept that, and that that pretty wife of yours that looked so beautifully sad when she left you here a couple of days ago will someday sooner leave you and never look back, the better off you'll be. She-"

"Say one more word about my wife and it will be your last."

"I get it, Cullen... I do... you're still in that between place. The after the crash - no pun intended - but before the burn. But let me share a statistic with you. Every one of the unfortunate bastards sitting here came here with a wife, or a fiance, or a girlfriend... and out of all of us... not one of us _still_ has a wife, or a fiance, or a girlfriend. Not. One."

"Well, Assho - What's your name?"

"Mike. Mike Newton."

"Well,_ Mike Newton... _" I pause and look at the faces assembled around us, the ones that, a minute ago, told me my instant tag of 'asshole' was dead on, but that now tell me that, asshole or not, his last words were those of painful truth. "... that's a real shit statistic, and while I'm not insensitive to it, I'm going to smash it. My baseball career may be over, whether I ever walk again or not, but my life isn't. The life I share with my wife, who is, and _is_ my rescue ship, and is already here, and would _never_ leave without me."

Because her legs are strong enough to stay.

And she'd never leave...

Never again...

Unless I told her to.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Bella**

"How's my beautiful girl?"

"I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. How are _you_?"

"Worried about you."

"I promise I'm okay, Dad. Don't worry."

"I'll come back if you need me."

"I know you will, and thank you, but you just left. I'm sure your wife missed you and is happy to have you back."

"Yeah, she missed me so much that she had Seth and one of his buddies move my favorite chair into the garage while I was gone."

"She did not!"

"Oh yes she did. So, I've slept in it ever since I got home, right there in the garage."

"Dad! That is not good for your back!"

"No, but the massage I got tonight when I came home from work was. And the giant porterhouse steak that greeted me not long after was good for my belly, that I'm sitting in my favorite chair - that also greeted me, back where it belongs - rubbing, while I wait for my apple pie to cool."

"Well, I'm glad she's making it up to you, and I certainly wouldn't pull you away from _that_."

"But I _will _come. You know that, don't you, sweetheart? If you need me there, you just have to say the word?"

"Yes, Daddy, I know."

"I love you, baby girl."

"I love you too."

"And I'm very proud of you. How strong you're being for Edward."

"Thank you for saying that... but I've had my moments."

"You're human, Bells. And you're dealing with a lot. And that's why I'm worried... I don't like you having to do it alone."

"I'm not alone. I have friends... that I can call if I need them. And Carlisle. And Emmett's around. A lot. Every day, actually."

"Well, that makes me feel a little better. And at night?"

"At night... I put on one of Edward's shirts and crawl into his side of the bed... and pray."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"How's my beautiful girl?"

"That's funny, my dad called an hour ago and asked me that same exact question."

"That's because you were his before you were mine. And what did you tell him?"

"That I'm okay."

"Are you?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I miss my wife."

"She misses you, too. And besides that?"

"Besides that is shit."

"Do you want to talk about that _shit_?"

"No."

"Okay."

"I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Well, that you can have whenever you want it."

"I always want it, Bella. And to know that you love me."

"I do. Always. More every day. And it's yours. Even when you can't hear my voice tell you. And even when everything else is shit. It's always yours, Edward."

"That's what gets me through the days."

"And the nights?" I ask, much like my dad asked me.

"The nights... I close my eyes and pray. That I'm not imagining it all. And that I am... "


	9. Chapter 9: Questions and Answers

**Chapter Nine: Questions and Answers**

**Bella**

"Can I come in?"

"I don't think so."

"Please? I-"

"No."

"Okay, Bella. I don't want to argue with you... but can I at least ask you... How is he?"

"You should ask _him _how he is."

"He still won't let me. Anything. I went to that place to see him... and just like you, they wouldn't even let me through the doors."

"Then you should ask your husband."

"I'm asking you, Bella. Because I want to hear the answer from _you_. The hopeful answer... that comes from _love _and nothing else, not the practical one that Carlisle would give me because he can't forget he's a doctor."

"I can't give you the answer, Esme. Or my hope. You'll have to find your own. And earn the right to walk through those doors. And this one."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Bella. Wow, you finally answered your phone. I've left you a dozen messages. Why haven't you called me back?"

"Nothing to say, I guess."

"Nothing to say?"

"No, Rose, nothing to say."

"Why not?"

"Because your messages were nothing but whining pity parties - which I don't have time for, and pleas for sympathy - which I don't feel. For you."

"Well, excuse the hell out of me for having my own problems and wanting a friend who cares - who's also my _sister _- but who seems to have forgotten that!"

"I'm your brother's wife. I assure you I'd never forget that."

"Are you sure, Bella? Because you sure have been busy with his best friend while he's not around to puppy after you. You know... Emmett? The man who's at your house every day? The one who ripped my heart out?"

"You ripped your own heart out. Though I can't say with any genuine belief that you actually have one. And be careful, Rose... be very careful what you say to me."

"Or what? You're going to tell my brother not to talk to me? Like you did with his own mother?"

"I don't tell Edward what to do. Or how to feel. And certainly not how he should deal with his family. He makes his own decisions. The ones that are right for him."

"You wouldn't even let her in the door! Of _his _house!"

"It's _our _house. And he, and his feelings, will be respected in it, regardless of where he is."

"That's rich, Bella. You won't let his mother in - the woman who loves him... who gave him life - because of some claim of _respect_... but Emmett's SUV was there last night until almost midnight! What kind of respect was my brother being shown then? Huh? What do you think he's going to _feel _when I call him and tell him about _that_?"

"Well, Rose... I think he'll feel shock. It's not every day that he gets a call from his sister. For any reason."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Edward**

"You can't outrun me, Bella."

"Certainly not, baseball boy."

"And you can't hide from me."

"No, I know I can't do that, either."

"Then why are you trying to?"

"I'm not," she says, breathless and flushed, peeking out from behind a tree, "I just want to see how hard you'll try to find me and catch me."

"You should already know," I tell her, and stalk towards her.

"But maybe I don't," she says and takes off again.

I catch her easily and she squeals as I crush her against me. "I'll never give up until I have you. And I'll never stop asking until you say yes. Marry me, Bella."

"I could... but how do I know you don't only want to marry me so you _can _have me?"

"You don't. You just have to trust me."

"Said the lion to the lamb."

"Said the lion to the lamb he _loves_."

"And how many lambs did he love before her?"

"None. And he'll love none after. He's a one lamb lion."

"He's a liar."

"He's not. He would never. He loves her too much. _You_. _I _love you. More than life itself. And I want to marry you. And have you - I don't deny that - but _only _you. Forever."

"Forever's a long time."

"Not long enough."

"Would you chase me forever? If that's how long it took to catch me?"

"Yes."

"Would you?"

"I said yes."

"Then prove it."

"How? Tell me how and I'll do it. Anything to make you believe."

"Let me go."

I let her go and she starts running again...

Away from me.

And I stand watching her with a smile on my face. Because I believe she wants to trust me. Wants to say yes.

To the question I've asked her a dozen times.

She's just afraid to.

Afraid that it's just another game to me.

That she is.

Like the one she's playing now that isn't.

And after a while, she turns and looks back...

To see...

And I watch the laughter fall from her beautiful face when she sees me still standing where she left me.

And it kills me...

How much it's not a game to her.

And I start to run...

Like my life depends on it.

Because it does.

Everything does.

And she won't see me not for another second.

To her.

After her.

_For _her.

Her, who is the one not moving now.

Because she does want it.

To be caught.

By me.

Who, when I do...

When she lets me...

She pulls to the flower-covered earth with her. On top of her.

"You scared me," she declares through trembling lips, "I thought you gave up."

"I told you I never would."

"I know. I was afraid to believe _that_."

"So, why did you make it so easy for me to catch you?"

"Because then I was more afraid not to. And not to let you."

"Even though you are?"

"Yes."

"I promise you don't have to be afraid. Of anything. You _can _trust me, Bella. To love you. I'll love you in ways you could never imagine. Only you. Forever. I swear I will. If you just let me."

"I want you to."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"That makes me very happy, Bella. But I wish you'd say another yes."

"Then ask me another question."

"You know the question."

"Maybe I don't."

"You _do_."

"I _will_... if you ask me. Again. I promise I will."

I look at her...

Down into her face...

Her eyes...

Glistening and vulnerable pools of love...

That's depths show me her surrender...

And her perfect pink mouth...

That still trembles...

But not with fear.

With anticipation.

She wants to say it.

The yes I'll never have to ask for again.

Even though she made me so many times...

After the first I thought she couldn't possibly say no to.

She wants to say the word I've waited for. That I'd wait forever for if it took that long.

But that won't.

The one I now know I'll never have to chase her again to get.

But would...

As long and as far as I had to.

She wants to...

"Will you marry me, Bella? Please? Will you?"

"_Yes_, Edward. I will marry you. And you will have me. Only. And love me in ways I could never imagine. Forever. Because it's just too exhausting to run from you, and I can't do it anymore. And don't want to. And never really wanted to, if you didn't already know that."

"So, my first proposal _was _worthy of a yes?"

"You know it was. I was just too afraid to say it."

"And now?"

"I was too afraid not to."

"Why, sweetheart? Why were you afraid?"

"What if you never asked again?"

"You know I would have."

"No... but I know I love you too much to risk that you might not have. And my dad too much to break his heart any longer."

"_He_ said yes the first time."

"_That_, I know. He worships the ground you walk on."

"And chased you on."

"And caught me on."

"But he'd probably shoot me if he saw me laying on it with you."

"You mean _on _me. And yes he would, so put that ring on my finger and get off. I can't marry you if he kills you."

"What makes you think I have it with me?"

"You always have it with you. And even if I didn't know you did, the iceberg you chose for a ring is currently poking me through your jeans."

"Are you sure that's what you feel, my love?"

"It better be. Or I might get scared again and run away from you."

"Oh, my sweet little lamb... I've never been happier to know that I can outrun you than I am now."

I can't help but smirk at the look of sheer terror she now wears on her beautiful face at my playful warning...

But there's not an ounce of arrogance in my heart - or fear in hers - when I pull her up and she lets me slip the ring on her finger.

Because she finally said yes.

Because she finally believes I love her enough to keep all of the promises I've made to her.

About the kind of man I could be. And would be.

Will...

For her.

Only.

And forever.

Belief I feel in her kiss.

A kiss like none she's ever given me before.

That what does to me I could never hide from her.

Like the gasp she doesn't hide from me.

Before she runs squealing away from me.

Making me chase her again.

Both of us knowing she could never outrun me...

But that she'd let me catch her...

Even if she could.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I woke from the dream just before I caught Bella in my arms again.

Just before she let me again.

On that day I'll never forget.

The day I promised her I'd never stop running.

Before the one long after when I broke it.

Because I didn't run after her.

Because I couldn't.

The day she wasn't too exhausted to run _from _me.

And didn't stop or turn to see if I was behind her.

She knew I wasn't that day.

Just like the days after when I made her go.

When I had to watch her walk away and feel the emptiness behind her.

I wish I could go back.

Back to sleep and to the dream...

That was my life the day she said yes.

The dream was so real...

So vividly clear...

Chasing her through the trees and into the meadow.

The one she showed me the first time she took me to meet her father.

And let me take her back to every time we went back to see him.

I knew she wouldn't have showed just anyone that special place.

And I knew she wouldn't have taken just anyone to meet her dad.

I knew she wanted to give her heart permission to love me.

Wanted her dad to tell her that it was okay to.

And I wore mine on my sleeve whenever he could see me.

With her.

And even without.

Because I went to see him even when she wasn't with me.

On days I knew she was purposely keeping me away.

I went to him...

Drove hours just to tell him how much I loved his little girl.

And ask him how I could make her believe me.

That she'd changed me.

With one look, made me want more.

More than the meaningless life I'd lived before her.

On the nights after the days I'd lived out my dreams on the fields I'll never play in again.

I was a fool.

And didn't hide it.

The countless women draped all over me night after night...

The whole world saw them.

And I didn't care.

Until the day I saw her.

And had her brought to me.

When she didn't deny being a fan - it would have been hard to wearing my jersey - but made it clear that her _admiration _for me ceased to exist when I left the field.

And the few other choice words she had for me...

I was shocked.

Women didn't talk to me like that.

And more shocking than that...

Was that it bothered me.

A lot.

Got under my skin.

So deep that I started to spend my nights alone doing nothing but thinking about her.

I'd met her once...

For a few minutes after a game that I'd owned...

But instead of owning her, too, she'd insulted me...

Put me in my place - far away from her.

And she was all I wanted.

And all I would ever want again.

I was never with another woman after that day.

Even though I wasn't with her, either.

She wouldn't give me the time of day, even after months of spending my nights in celibate-for-her misery.

No, she couldn't see what I was doing, but she would see what I wasn't.

And so could my teammates. And their wives, one of whom told me one day that Bella was a first grade teacher at her niece's school.

She said I'd finally earned the information. And not to waste it.

I was at the school the next day, paying a surprise gift-bearing visit to her classroom.

I had t-shirts and jerseys and caps for all of the kids, and balls signed by the whole team.

And I had flowers for their beloved Miss Swan, that I'd taken the time to pick myself, instead of buy. I wanted her to notice that. That she was worth my time.

I told the kids that I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the whole world, more beautiful than any princess in any fairy tale - because I knew what little girls dreamed of, and that my heart was broken because she wouldn't go on a date with me. And that it was so broken that I didn't think I could play in our next game - which secured the boys.

They were instantly on my side. All of them.

She was so mad...

And made me stay after class and clean erasers while she sat at her desk and tried not to smile at my flowers, or at me while I smiled at her, covered in eraser dust.

Because she had agreed to go on a date with me the following week. And a bus full of first grade chaperones.

Our first date was a field trip with her class.

That happened to fall on the only day that week that we didn't have a game.

It was the best date I'd ever been on. And I was completely in love with her by the end of it.

I wish I could go back...

And relive every moment I ever spent with my wife.

Every single extraordinary moment...

Until the one that cost her her husband.

The day I stopped running after her.

And stopped loving her in ways she can only now imagine.

The day I broke all of my promises to her.

Because I was...

Broken.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"Man, I love working with someone that ain't a whiny little bitch, it makes me love my job."

"Good, then shut up and do it."

"It's done. That's enough for today."

"No."

"Yes. You've had enough."

"I'll tell you when I've had enough. Let's go."

"You'd kill yourself before you'd ever admit it, which is why _I _decide when we're done. And we're _done_. We'll get back at it tomorrow."

"I want to get back at it _now_."

"No can do."

"Come on, Crowley, I felt something."

"Is it the first time you felt something?"

"No."

"And it won't be the last. You worked hard today, and-"

"I work hard _every _day."

"Yes you do, and I give you mad props for it every day, but it's enough today, dude. Go get cleaned up."

"I don't want to get cleaned up. I want-"

"Isn't your wife coming in less than an hour to see your ugly ass?"

"Yes. But we have time. Just ten more minutes."

"Use that ten minutes to jack off. So you can smile pretty for her when she gets here."

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't supposed to be. It's good advice, so go take it."

"Fuck you, Crowley."

"Why the hell are you getting so bent out of shape, Cullen?"

"You're an asshole."

"Why am I an- _oh_."

"_Oh_, my ass. Go to Hell."

"Hold on a minute, Cullen... it wasn't a dig at you. Has your dick not gotten hard yet? Since the accident?"

"You know damn well it hasn't!"

"How would I know that? We've never talked about your dick before."

"I said it's not funny, you fuck."

"And I said it's not supposed to be. I wouldn't joke about that shit. I take my dick very seriously."

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Knowing that you think you never can? Hell no."

"Then get off my _dead _dick."

"It's not dead, Cullen. Maybe it hasn't woken up from its nap yet, but it's not dead. Haven't you talked about this with anyone? Asked questions?"

"There's nothing to talk about. Or ask."

"No? Are you sure about that? Because something we _have _talked about is your wife. A lot. And I think a man that much in love with a woman should be talking about it. And asking questions. Asking questions until he runs out of breath. And listening... getting answers, instead of assuming he knows them already. You should be talking, Edward... about everything... for _yours_."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Bella?"

"Hi, baby."

"Where are you?"

"Trying to get to you."

"Are you okay?"

"There was an accident. I-"

"An accident? Are you hurt?"

"No, sweetheart, not me. But I can't get through. And there's no other way there. I'm stuck. I've been sitting here waiting for them to clear the road."

"Thank God you're okay. You scared the hell out of me... "

"I'm sorry. I promise I am. I'm just frustrated."

"It's okay. But can I tell you something?"

"Of course. You can tell me anything."

"I was afraid you weren't coming."

"Not coming? Edward, nothing could keep me away from you. And if this road isn't clear in five minutes, I'm going to get out and run to you."

_That's so much better than away... _"I'll be right here, Bella... waiting... as long as it takes... "

_Helplessly..._

_To catch you._

_Because I can still do _that_._

_Even if _only_._


	10. Chapter 10: Words Unspoken

**Chapter Ten: Words Unspoken**

**Edward**

"You said you were going to smash it... you sure didn't waste any time. Or maybe I should say _your wife _didn't."

"What did I tell you?"

"I believe it was that she would never leave without you. Which is kind of funny now... you know, since she never even came back. Damn, dude, even I made it past the first visiting day."

"_My wife _is on her way, you fuck. You don't know shit, and-"

"Yeah... that's what we all said the first time we were left waiting... for _nothing_. And just so you know, Cullen... you _did _smash our shit statistic. You smashed it to bits. None of us was left that fucking fast."

"The only thing I'm going to smash today is your face if you-"

"Cullen! He's not worth it! Walk away. Newton, get the fuck out of here!"

"Yeah, Cullen... walk away. Oh wait, you _can't_."

"You're right, Newton... I can't. Just like you can't. And Uley's right, too... you're not worth it. But you know what's wrong? My wife _is _coming. And that smashes the hell out of what you're waiting for. _Still_. Absolutely nothing."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I've never been nervous to see my wife.

Never until today.

Until this moment...

When I sit in this godforsaken wheelchair and wait for her to come to me.

It's not the first time she'll see me in one...

She did just a few days ago. The last time she saw me, when she had to leave me in it.

But every time she has to, I feel the knife thrust a little deeper. Turn and twist and dig...

It's not what I want her to see. Not how I want her to see _me_.

Not now. And not forever.

Something I'm starting to fear I won't have with her.

If I stay like this. No matter what I said to that asshole Newton.

I'm nervous to see my wife.

Afraid...

That the face I remember... that I could never forget... her perfect, beautiful face... will look different to me.

And differently at me.

That her face that gets me through the days, even when I can't see it, will start to slip away from me.

Out of my sight. And my reach.

Farther and farther away...

Until it's out of my life, that I couldn't bear to live this way without.

_Hurry, Bella..._

_Please..._

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

This place is getting to me already.

The place where I don't see Bella everyday.

And see too many other faces. Hear too many other voices... the stories they tell. The mad at the world bullshit they spew...

Because they lost everything. And then lost everything they had left.

_They_, not me.

I was stupid to be nervous.

Wrong to be afraid.

I'm neither now.

Because my wife just ran through the door.

Not walked...

_Ran_.

Because walking wouldn't get her to me fast enough.

She couldn't wait to get to me.

Close enough to touch. To smell. And to soothe.

Her face lit up the second she saw me. And a smile wider than I've ever seen stretched across her face. Until she got closer...

And bent down to take mine in her hands and smother it with kisses.

Kisses that made their way to my mouth...

And chased everything else away.

Everything but how much she loves me. Whether I'm in this chair or not.

The one I waited for her in.

The one that I pull her into with me. And where I'll keep her as long as she lets me, which I really do believe is forever if that's how long it keeps me.

Her face will never be out of my sight. Not if it's in her power to let me see it.

Or out of my reach.

I should never have thought it would. Or could.

I know better.

She'll never take it away from me.

No matter what I let be taken from her.

She wants everything I have left. No matter how much or how little it is...

She wants _me_.

And she always will.

No matter what.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Did you miss me?" she asks, her beaming smile back in place, as her delicate fingers trace every plane of my face.

"More than you could ever know."

"We're halves of a whole, Mr. Cullen. Broken apart and kept seperate against our will. I assure you I _know_."

"But you asked. So I answered the only way I could."

"Do you want to ask me? If I missed you?"

"No, I don't need to. You already told me."

"Did I?" she asks, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

"Yes, you did," I answer, pulling her tighter against me as she inhales deeply. "And you still are."

"Because I did. So much... And you feel so good. And smell so good. And... Can we freeze this moment?" she asks, her breath a gentle tickle on my neck as she rests her head on my shoulder. "Just for a little while?

I know her words are pure. Her questions vulnerable and innocent. Because she _has _missed me. My arms around her. My face where she can see it. Touch it. Know she hasn't lost it...

But if ever I had the power to freeze a moment in time with her, it wouldn't be this one.

With me in this place. And this chair. Knowing my wife will eventually have to walk away with me still in them.

"No... not this one. But another, maybe... if I'm blessed enough to have others with you. Different ones. Better ones... "

"You'll have a lifetime of moments with me, Edward. Just like I promised. There were no ifs in our vows. Only ands... and ors... and fors... and I said I do to all of them."

"I know. I remember... and I'd like to freeze _that _moment. Go back... and live in it forever."

"No... " she whispers, "Not that one. I hadn't given you all of me yet. And I'm not willing to give that up... knowing how it felt to... and how it felt for you to take it."

Did I say I wasn't afraid? That I was wrong to be?

I lied.

Because I am. I'm terrified...

Of _that_.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**... **

**Bella**

I'd never hurt my husband. Never for anything in the world.

Never purposely put fear into his heart. Or his mind.

But I did.

When I said the words I meant to put a smile on his lips.

The words that, instead, chased it away.

Far, far away...

And brought something else much, much too close.

I hurt him.

And I scared him.

I could feel it in his arms around me. The way they grew hard and stiff...

And loosened... let go just a little, as if they had no right to hold me. As if he didn't. And had no right to expect me to stay wrapped in them. Now...

And forever.

_If_...

"Baby, I didn't mean it that way... "

"It's okay, Bella."

"Edward... "

"I broke the promises I made to you. I didn't mean to, but I did. And I-"

"Stop it. You didn't break any promises you made to me. You didn't break anything. But you'll break my heart if you don't look at me. See how wrong my words came out... or how wrong you heard them."

It seems like a lifetime before his eyes meet mine again...

But I wait. Because that's what I want. And what I need him to know he won't lose.

"There's only one thing in the world that I'm not willing to give up. That I never, ever would or could. One. _You_. Who isn't a thing, and who would never let any come between us. Certainly not a thing I didn't mean to say the way you heard it. A way that could hurt you.

"You know better, Edward. I know you do. You _know _how much I love you. And you know that nothing could ever change that.

"You wanted me. Loved me. Fought for me to believe it. And you made sure I knew it every day. And that you'd never give up until you had me. All. And _my _promises. Promises of a lifetime. Yours and mine. Together.

"Promises I'll never break. And promises I'd never let you. You wanted me...

"And I thank God everyday that you did. And I'll keep thanking Him, forever, because that's how long you will. You're stuck with me, sweetheart. For the rest of your life, which better damn well be long. Because _that's _what you promised me, when I gave you mine. And I want every single moment of it."

His eyes tell me he heard me. And his arms cling to every word I spoke as they tighten around me again, and let go of the hurt that made him.

And I revel in it. This moment of understanding. Of knowledge and peace. For as long as I can.

Because we're not alone, he and I...

There's something else here. With us... and between us.

Something that I can already feel the push of.

Because no matter how desperately I want him not to be...

My husband is hurting. And afraid. "Even if I can't give you _all _of me?"

"Yes," I tell him, before a single second of silence can pass. Because he asked. Because he had to.

And I gave him the only answer I could. The only one that exists. And the only one I want him to hear. Today...

And forever. "Even if."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

We made it past that moment. The one that told me he was broken. The one that nearly broke me...

And tried to make the most of our time. Because we don't have much. Today, anyway. And here. Where I'm starting to wonder if he should be.

I'm going to talk to Carlisle about that. What's best for him. And tell him that I think this place is not.

I know that Edward needs care I'm not qualified to provide him, but I don't like what being in this place without me is doing to him.

The doubts my absence is giving room to. And the fears.

He has a hard enough road to travel without anything that isn't there getting in his way.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about ways to make things easier for him. In our home... where he doubts nothing. Where he's never been anything but happy. Known he was loved. Wanted and needed. And would always be.

But maybe I haven't spent enough. Soon enough. Or in the right way.

I've been planning for the day I'll take him home. The day someone else tells us I can...

But that was wrong.

Because the only person I should be listening to is him. The man who fought to make me love him.

But doesn't have to anymore.

Because I could never not.

No matter what.

_I hear you, Edward._

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I couldn't help but ask her the question.

I needed to hear her say the word. And the ones that followed. Even though she'd already said so many... given me so much...

And even though I already knew the answer.

My heart knew. _Knows_...

It's my head that forgets.

My legs tell it to.

Because they can't feel her. As she sits here. With me. On me.

And because when she leaves... when she has to go... when I have to make her - which I already know I will - they won't be able to follow her.

They want to follow her. Go wherever she goes. Go back to my life with her.

My home.

Ours...

Where everything is perfect.

_Was _perfect.

Before I left it.

And her in it alone.

Something I don't want her to be. Any more than she does.

And something I've tried to make her not be. Not all of the time, at least.

Because it's all I can do.

"So, tell me the truth... Is Emmett driving you crazy?"

She narrows her eyes at me like she's about to let me have it for what I know is his near-constant presence, but then she smiles. "No. He's been great, actually."

"Good."

"Honestly, I've been wondering how Rose could let go of him. There's a lot more to Emmett than I ever realized."

"Being around you has probably brought it out of hiding. You have a way of making the most monstrous of men human. Or something."

"You weren't monstrous."

"Well, it's true that that wasn't one of the _affectionate _terms you used to describe me before you fell in love with me."

She laughs and holds her head high. "Whatever I _affectionately _called you before I fell in love with you was earned."

"I deny nothing."

"Because you know you can't."

"Yes, I do know that. And that I got you to fall in love with me in spite of every despicable bit of it."

"I, like you, deny nothing."

"Because you, like me, know you can't."

"Yes, I do know that. And I'd never dream of denying it... but I would like to point out that you fell in love with me first."

"Absolutely true. I loved you the second I laid eyes on you."

"No, you didn't. You _wanted _me the second you laid eyes on me. It's not the same thing."

"I more than wanted you, Bella. Maybe it wasn't love, _yet_, but it was something. Something I'd never felt before."

"Like the frustration that followed?" she asks with a devious smile.

"Yes." _That_ is certainly undeniable.

A devious smile that turns sweet... "That you endured without a single complaint?"

"Yes. Because by then I _did _love you."

"More than you wanted me."

"Yes. Though I do admit to screaming into a pillow once or twice - or a hundred times - when I climbed into my bed at night alone, thinking of you in yours."

"I do that now. Or something... Though the why isn't the same... "

_Isn't it, Bella? _

_And even if it's not... won't it be? _

_How frustrated will you be when I'm right beside you and give you nothing? Because I _can't_?_

_When you scream into your pillow because I don't instead of do?_

_I remember the times I've made you..._

_I'll never forget them._

_Your screams..._

_The sound of them..._

_Or the feel of you beneath me when they flowed in ecstasy out of your throat and through your lips..._

_Ecstasy _I _made you feel._

_And promised you I always would._

_After I waited patiently for you to let me._

_Give me all of you so I could._

_I don't want to hear you scream, Bella..._

_Or hear you not..._

_When the why isn't the same._

_The sound of _that _will kill me._

"Nothing's the same."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"Visiting hours are _over_, Mrs. Cullen."

"I heard you the _first_ time you told me. So go tell someone else."

"Everyone else has already left. Because they were over twenty minutes ago, which you know. You're the only one not following the rules."

I don't give a damn about their rules. I can't leave him like this...

Thinking nothing's the same.

I need more time...

To tell him and to show him that something is. That _I _am. Whether he is or not.

I _can't _go now. "I'm not trying to break your rules... We're in the middle of something, and it's important. I'll go in a few minutes."

"If it's important it will keep. I don't make the rules, Mrs. Cullen, but it's my job to enforce them. _Now_, please."

"I said I'll go in a few minutes. So, _you _please go do some other part of your job now so that I can."

"Please don't be difficult, Mrs. Cullen. I'm simply-"

"If you don't want me to be difficult, then don't force me to be."

"I understand that the transition is hard, especially in the beginning, but our rules are established in the patients' best interest, who, in this case is your husband-"

"Do _not _tell me what's best for my husband. I assure you _you _and your established rules have no idea what that is."

"Mr. Cullen, please... if you could assist me... I don't want to have to call security, but she's-"

"Don't threaten my wife."

"I wasn't-"

"You _did_. And now _you _can go. She'll follow in a moment."

"But-"

"I said go!"

"I'll be right outside the door."

She walks through it with a huff, and just like she said she would, stands just outside of it with arms crossed.

And I want to slap her...

But I know Edward is about to tell me I have to leave, and I won't waste another precious second of my time with him on her.

"Some things are the same, Edward. The most important ones. You... and me... and-"

"You have to go, Bella."

"I know, but I need you to listen to me first. I-"

"_Now_."

"Edward, please... I can't-"

"You _can_. And you will because I'm telling you to. Unless you didn't mean what you said? That we're the same? Me... your husband, and you... my wife, that I give in to whenever I can, but that I expect to do as I tell her when I can't?"

"You know I meant it."

"And you know I mean it now."

"But I don't want to leave you when you're-"

"In control of nothing? Not one single thing in my life? Not even my wife? Who's always made me feel like a man?"

"You are-"

"Then show me I am. And that you believe it. _Still_."

He knows I won't say another word... _now_...

Not of protest, anyway. "Okay."

And watches me with a determined stare as I obediently get up and gather my things, though it's the last thing I want to do.

Or second to last...

Because the very last thing is anything that would make him feel like less of a man.

Less than he already does.

Which he's wrong about, but hurts too much to believe he is.

I'll do what he says...

Obey my husband...

Even when his orders are not the ones he wants to give me. Not like the others he has...

The ones that made my toes curl.

The ones that made his. And made him feel like a man in every way.

Honored. And worshiped. And loved completely. And...

Things he's afraid he won't feel again.

And won't make me.

I'll do what he says...

Because I know what he doesn't is killing him.

My husband...

Who thinks he can't be anymore.

All...

To me.

**xx**

**I know... I kept you waiting a long time. Again. And maybe so long this time that no one's even here anymore. But I'm hoping someone is. And other places, where I've also kept people waiting. For something...**

**And I know everyone's probably tired of my excuses, so I won't give any this time. And I'll just say this: I've abandoned nothing. I could never. Just like Bella could never abandon him. Cross our hearts.**

**So... see you soon. Or _sooner_, at least.**

**CM**

**Oh, and if anyone would like to know what's going on while you're waiting... _if_... I have a fb page (that I did NOT make for myself) where I sometimes give information to my 'whereabouts'. And other things from time to time. It's secret, or private or whatever, so let me know if you want in. **

**That's all.**


	11. Chapter 11: Now

**Chapter Eleven: Now**

**Bella**

"Would you believe me if I told you I had my phone in my hand to call you? How's our boy? I'm assuming you left him already, or you sure as hell wouldn't be wasting your time calling me."

"We have to get him out of there, Emmett."

"Why, Bella? What happened?"

"It's what's _happening_. Every minute he stays in that place."

"You mean every minute he's forced to stay away from you?"

"He's afraid, Emmett. That I won't be able to accept it if..."

"If what, Bella?"

"If he can't be the husband he was before."

"I'd be afraid of that, too. If-"

"How can you say that? I-"

"_If_ my wife was anyone but you."

"Nothing could make me leave him. Nothing but something I know he'd never do, even if he could."

"But that's a different thing, honey. And you're right, a thing he'd never do."

"I'll never leave him, Emmett."

"I know that."

"And I'll never need more than he can give me. As long as I have him, I have everything."

"He knows that, Bella."

"No, he doesn't. He did... but that place is making him forget. It's beating him."

"Well, then we'll have to bring him home to you, won't we? So you can make him remember."

"Yes. Will you help me?"

"Of course I'll help you. I'd do anything for Edward. And you, who should definitely know, and never forget _that_."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"It's an excellent rehabilitation facility, Bella. One of the best in the country."

"But it's not what's best for him."

"The transition will get easier. You just have to give it time."

"You sound like that bitch nurse. And I don't have _time_, Carlisle. Edward is-"

"In the best place he can be and still be close to the people who love him."

"I'm trying to tell you that he's not."

"I know you love my son, Bella. I'm grateful everyday for how much you do, especially now, but wanting to disrupt his rehabilitation because you don't like the facility's visiting hours is-"

"_Not_ why. Didn't you hear anything I said?"

"What I heard is that you want him home. But I can't agree with you that it's where he should be, because I don't think it is. Not now. And probably not anytime soon."

"Have you even been to see him since he's been there? I'm sure your credentials as a neurosurgeon allow you certain privileges when it comes to their ridiculous rules."

"I've spoken with him, and with my colleagues about his progress."

"As a doctor."

"I am a doctor, Bella."

"You're a father, too. Who hasn't been to see his son since he left your hospital. That _was _your indirect answer, was it not?"

"My schedule has been-"

"Unforgiving," I say, and turn and walk out of my in laws' house.

My in laws who continue to disappoint me.

I thought they were so wonderful when I met them... and when we got married... even after what Emmett told me Esme had done...

I thought she was just trying to protect her son, and I tried to respect her for it. I knew she'd see that she'd been wrong to do it. I'd have a lifetime to prove it to her... how much I loved Edward. How much I'd give him instead of take from him. How much it was all I wanted to do... give him a beautiful life, just like the one he promised to give me.

A life of happiness and security...

The kind that comes from love, not money.

A life filled with trust and understanding and respect...

Everything he deserves...

Everything he earned from me. Again and again and again.

Wanting him out of that place isn't about me not liking their rules. It's about keeping my promises to my husband. I have to take him from that place that's taking too much from him. And take him to the one place where nothing can. The one place where his needs come first, and will always.

I have to take him home...

Where disappointment has never existed.

"Bella, wait!" Esme calls from behind me just as I open the door to my Jeep. "Please wait!"

"Wait for what? I've heard enough for one day."

"I was listening to you talk to Carlisle... and I love my husband, but believe me, he's not always right. Or sensitive to... well, anything he can't see on a chart. He focuses on facts. And statistics... and... and that's clearly not what Edward needs right now. And I know he's the one you came to, but please, Bella... let me be the one to help you.

"Because I also know that no one could know better what my son needs than you. And that you want to give it to him. Everything you can...

"Carlisle and I gave Edward life, but he took that life and gave it to you. The best decision he's ever made. The best one he ever could. And the only one that will save it now.

"I'll do anything, Bella. Anything you need. To help you save my son. Please let me? Let me earn my way back into his life? The life I know could only truly be shattered if he lost _you_."

"He could never lose me, Esme."

"I know that, too. And that he should... and that if he's forgetting, or doubting it for a single second, then he's definitely in the wrong place."

"You know that?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"And you want to help me?"

"Yes. I want what's best for Edward, too. And I have absolute faith that _you _know what that is."

"With all of my heart, it's all I'm trying to do. To know. And be... "

"I'd never doubt that. I _am _sorry, Bella. For so many things... "

"And you'll support me getting him out of there?" I ask, because it's more important than those many things we can't change.

"One hundred percent."

"And him when I do?" The _most _important...

"I will. I swear... I-"

"I don't believe in empty promises, Esme. And neither does Edward. And there's no room for them in our life."

"I'm glad there's not. And that he has you to keep them away."

"We'll see if you are."

"Well, that's a lot more than I hoped for when I ran out here, Bella. Thank you."

"Thank yourself. It's because I finally saw some in you that I was willing to listen."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Bella, Esme's here... she's waiting at the door... "

"She can come in, Emmett."

"She can?"

"It's a probationary welcome, but yes. For now, she can."

"You never cease to amaze me, Mrs. Cullen."

"That's what he said."

I smile at Emmett's back as he roars with laughter on his way back to the door to let my mother-in-law inside. Because his roar of a laugh would make anyone smile. And because I know Edward would have laughed, too, if he'd have heard me. A sound that would have been filled with love. A sound I miss. And the most beautiful one in the world.

"It's nice to hear laughter and see smiling faces," Esme says as she follows Emmett back into the dining room where we were working and planning for Edward's homecoming. "I haven't heard or seen any in a long time."

"Exactly what I'm trying to change, Esme."

"I know you are. And I'm grateful for the opportunity to try to help you, though I know you could do it without me. And are probably well on your way... it looks like you've been very busy."

"Edward is unhappy. There's no time to waste."

"Well, I didn't waste any, either. I brought a list of names... people you might consider to work with him here, if you haven't already chosen someone."

I take the piece of paper from her hand, recognizing most of the names she's compiled. "Our lists are very similar. But I've already eliminated this person. We met with her today - just a few minutes ago, actually - and she's not right."

She watches as I grab a pen from the table and scratch off one, as Emmett's laughter fills the house again. "Too pretty," he chuckles, "And _eager_."

"That was _not _why, Emmett."

"Well, if it was or it wasn't," Esme interjects, "No one ever called my daughter-in-law stupid, though she knows my son has eyes for only her."

"I do know that. And like I said, I just didn't think she was right. All eager ninety pounds of her. And I know that Edward would be more comfortable working with a man."

"I was just kidding, Bella," Emmett says, wrapping a friendly arm around me, "And she couldn't hold a candle to you, and _your_ ninety pounds. And her eagerness was about a lot more than _working _with our boy, so good riddance to her. And you're definitely right, Edward would want to work with a man. No question."

"He really likes the one he's working with now. His name is Tyler Crowley. Edward's mentioned him to me several times. I wish-"

"Then consider it granted."

"He works for the rehab center, Emmett. He's not going to just-"

"Let's let him decide that." He looks at his watch and winks at me. "Which he will... when he gets here... in about an hour. He's busy with our boy right now."

"What?"

"Edward's mentioned him to me, too. So after you told me your plan, I called him. And he was very _receptive _to continuing his work with his favorite patient - for lack of a better term - wherever it may be."

"He was?"

"He was. I can be very charming and persuasive when I want to be. For a good cause, anyway."

"Your job was supposed to be equipment, you know?"

"I know. But?"

"But thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd forget to eat."

"Is that your subtle way of trying to tell me you're hungry, Emmett?"

"I'm not subtle, Bella. I'm a big, bad, _starving_ boy."

Esme laughs at his growl - and the more ferocious one that comes from his stomach - and transforms into the _mom _I remember. "I know a woman's kitchen is sacred territory, Bella, but big, bad, starving boys are my specialty. And girls... _skinny _ones. May I?"

"I'm not that territorial... about the _kitchen_... or _skinny_... not too, anyway... but I haven't really had time to-"

"She forgets to shop, too, Mrs. C. There's nothing in there but some moldy cream cheese and a carton of expired eggs she won't even let me touch, let alone throw away."

My mother-in-law gives me a knowing smile and grabs her purse. "Well, then it's a good thing that shopping is my other specialty. Now go throw those away, Bella... because there just won't be _room _for them when I get back."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"You're a stubborn son of a bitch, Cullen, do you know that?"

"You say stubborn, Crowley, I say _driven_."

"I haven't even met your wife yet and I don't think I've ever respected a woman more."

"My wife _loves _me. _And _my drive."

_Me..._

_And my drive..._

I said the words because they're true...

They came easily.

But as soon as they're out of my mouth, they turn around and punch me in the gut.

Hard.

Because they _are _true.

So true they take the air from my lungs.

"Hey... breathe, Cullen. Come on... slow and deep... in and out."

It takes a few minutes, but I manage to get myself under control enough - and swallow my pride enough - to plead for what I can't. "You have to help me get my life back, Tyler. And give it back to her. This isn't what I promised her... "

"For better or for worse, right? That's what you promised her?"

"Don't-"

"And what she promised you?"

"I wouldn't have let her if-"

"No? If she were here now instead of you would you love her any less? Would you regret that promise? Or go back and not make it if you could?"

"No. Hell no. But-"

"Would she? If she could now?"

I close my eyes and rip my hands through my hair with a frustrated roar.

Because I don't want to answer him. To say it out loud... that word...

The one that soothes my pain and threatens to bury me under it at the same time...

"Answer the question, Edward. Would. She?"

"No! Damn it, she wouldn't!"

"Remember that, Cullen. She deserves for you to. And for that drive of yours that she loves to not only be for her.

"No matter what you can give back to her - what I know you'll work your ass off to give back... and what I'll work mine off to _help _you give back, as long as you want me to - or what you can't...

"Be driven to do it for yourself. And be willing to accept yourself the way she accepts you. Love yourself the way she loves you. The man that's still a man... and still will be to her as long as _you _don't take him away from her."

"I'd never take anything away from her."

"Good. But you need to open your eyes and see that you're letting something else. And stop letting it."

"Don't you see me working my ass off to? You just said-"

"I'm not talking about your body, Edward - that I know has never known limits until now - I'm talking about what you're letting happen to your mind while you're here facing them. _Here_... a place where you don't need to be. A place you don't need to let take anything away from either of you. Do you hear what I'm saying to you?"

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

It's only eggs and cream cheese...

It doesn't matter that it's the last thing Edward made for me...

Fed me in our bed...

Just hours before he left me in it...

And didn't come back...

It doesn't matter that they're the last things his fingerprints were left on...

The last ones not wiped or washed away by something or someone else...

It doesn't, right?

Matter?

I wish it didn't...

But it does.

And I stop staring at them both, for just a second, as Emmett tucks my hair behind my ear and puts my phone to it. My phone that I was too entranced by those things that matter to even hear ring.

"Edward?"

"I only have a minute, beautiful, and I want you to tell me what you're doing right this second."

"Uh... okay... I'm standing in front of our refrigerator."

"The one I'm told there's no food in?"

"I wouldn't say _no _food exactly."

"You wouldn't?"

"No... not exactly."

"What's in there, Bella?"

"Well... "

"Well... _what_?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"And by telling me you don't want to, you just did. Throw them away, Bella."

"Edward... "

"I'm not asking you."

"I know that... but they're the last things you touched... that no one else has... "

"_You're_ the last thing I touched. That no one else has."

"Of course I am, I didn't mean... you know what I meant."

"Throw them away, Bella. Now."

"I _miss _your eggs, Edward."

"I know you do. But sweetheart... those aren't mine. They're just something that's old and damaged and unhealthy for you to keep."

"But they're all I have."

"That's not true. And they're _not _me. I wouldn't tell you you had to throw them away if they were."

"Do you promise you wouldn't?"

"I promise I never will."

"Okay."

"That's not all I want to hear, Bella."

I take them out and drop them into the garbage can...

The sound he wanted to hear...

The one he doesn't have to tell me again so he can.

The one he has heard now because it was empty...

Like the refrigerator is now...

Completely...

And me...

Because the last thing I was holding on to...

The last choice that was all mine to make...

Was taken away from me.

By the only person in the world I'd let.

"Good girl."

"Only for you."

"I want to hear later how else you were."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"I know. You will."

"Goodbye, my love."

"Goodbye, Edward."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Cullen. I've never met an honest to goodness angel before."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Crowley, but please call me Bella. Only my husband calls me Mrs. Cullen... _usually_," I shoot Emmett a wicked glance, but he only laughs. "My husband who has _clearly _been talking to you about me, and much too graciously, from the sound of it."

"I doubt that, _Bella_. And Mr. McCarty's call is proof that I'm right to. And please, call me Tyler."

"Okay... so, Emmett - that I promise you you can call him, though I know men have this thing about addressing each other with last names instead of firsts... talked to you about our concerns?"

"Yes, he did."

"And do you agree? I'm not asking you to speak ill of your facility... and I know you didn't know my husband before his accident, but you spend a lot of time with him now, and he's comfortable enough to talk to you about me when you do... which tells me a lot, besides what I hear from him... "

"I do agree, Bella. Our facility's sole purpose is to help people like your husband... and while physically it _is_... we're not just physical beings. And we're not all the same. Nor do we all have the same needs. And in Edward's case... I don't think it's the best place for him at this point in the game. Not that I'm saying it's a-"

"I know. Do you think I'm selfish in thinking _here _is?"

"No. Anything but. I think I can safely say that you know him better than anyone. And that you recognize that something is wrong, and only want to make it right before any more damage can be done."

"It's all I want. He's not in a good place... emotionally... and I can't ignore that. I know it's to be expected that he'll struggle somewhat with everything that's happened, and I was prepared for that, to help him through it in any way I could, but he's hurting in ways that I never would have thought he would. Doubting things he shouldn't. Me... himself... our future... that, for the first time since possibly the first moment he met me, I'm afraid he's seeing as separate. Because he thinks he might have to... as long as we are...

"And I _don't _accept that. I won't. For him or myself. Because we'll never be.

"I need to bring my husband home, Tyler. So that he can get what he needs... in a place that will show him our future instead of take it away from him. And I want _you _to help us both see what that future will be, no matter what it is. So that we can start living it. By our rules instead of someone else's.

"So, will you consider it? Because taking him out of that place _is _the best thing for Edward, but taking him away from you isn't."

"Well, if he's been gracious about anyone, Bella, it sounds like it's been me."

"You're good for him. And I'm not _all _that he needs. I know that. But you should know that I'll do anything it takes to give it to him."

"And you think I'm part of that 'all' equation?"

"Yes."

"I'm honored, Bella, but-"

"I don't need your honor, I need your expertise. And your _Yes_."

"Well, you have it regardless - my honor - and if you're offering my expertise, as you call it, a new home, then I may be honored enough to accept that offer, but I think that the _Yes _you want should come from Edward. Before I give you mine."

"Of course he'll say yes. He-"

"Needs to choose it on his own. Don't you agree? _Mrs. Cullen_?"

"He's talked to you _a lot_ about me."

"Yes, he has. And I hope this goes without saying, but every word has been respectful."

"I know my husband, Tyler. It does."

"Good. Because I've never seen a man more in love with a woman. Or more dedicated to not losing her."

"And that's exactly why he needs to come home."

"And?"

"Make the choice to himself."

"I didn't tell him I was coming here, Bella."

"I didn't think you had."

"But I planted the seed that _he _needed to."

"Thank you. For understanding him. And for _Yes_."

"He did tell me _a lot_ about you," he laughs, "including how often you get your way."

"That's true, I do... unless it's more important that he get his."

"Your husband is a very lucky man, Mrs. Cullen."

"My husband has _earned _everything he has, Mr. Crowley."

"Oh, Bella... I don't doubt that for a second."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"Mr. Cullen, I know you're used to special treatment wherever you go, but while you're here, you're just like everyone else. And you're expected to adhere to the rules like everyone else does."

"I made a fucking phone call, get off my ass."

"What you did was charmed that young lady into bending the rules for you the second I turned my back."

"Last I checked I didn't commit any crime deserving of imprisonment."

"No, as far as I know you didn't. You had a car accident, that left you needing our help. Which is why you're here. So that you can get it. Help that we can't give you when you're in here on the phone with your wife instead of in your group therapy session where you're supposed to be."

"The only therapy I need _is _my wife."

"Your doctor disagrees."

"I could care less what my doctor disagrees with."

"Well, you don't have to care, Mr. Cullen, but you do have to follow his orders as long as you're here."

"Then _here _isn't where I should be, and not where I'm staying... effective as of _now_, because I don't take orders from anyone."

"Mr. Cullen-"

"Give me back the damn phone!"

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I'm such a fucking idiot...

Letting this place... these people and their stupid fucking rules... keep me from my life.

And my perfect wife...

Who I kept ordering away...

When she only wanted to be...

Only let me because she does...

Still...

Even though she knew I was wrong.

_Knows _how much of an idiot I've been...

Telling her they were our rules...

_Mine_...

While making us both follow someone else's.

While she suffered because I did.

Held on to things she shouldn't have because I kept...

I have no one to blame but myself.

For the pain I inflicted on her.

And inflicted on myself every time I had to watch her walk away from me.

Let go.

_Make _her.

The thing that I'd rather die than ever truly have to watch her do.

I boasted to Crowley about how driven I am...

When this whole time I've been going nowhere but deeper into Hell.

And dragging my wife down with me.

The Hell I'm going to stop sitting still and pull myself out of...

Set us free from.

And roll away from if it's all I can do...

With my perfect wife in my arms.

Right where she _still _wants to be.

Whether I am or not.

_Still_...

In this way that terrifies me to be...

Or a fucking idiot...

That I'm _done _being.

"Bella... I need you, sweetheart."

"I'm all yours. Tell me, Edward. Anything."

"Call Emmett. You're going to need his help."

"He's already here."

"Good. Now come and get me. I want to come home."

"You want to come home... _now_?"

"Yes, _now_."

"Now, as in right this minute _now_?"

"Do I ever mean it any other way?"

"No... you... Emmett!"

**xx**

**I was going to issue a plea here... but you guys are great, and I'm going to have faith that my plea is unnecessary. So, I'll issue it to Emmett instead... Hurry! But please drive safe with my babies. I want them home in _one_ perfect, happy piece.**

.


	12. Chapter 12: Home

**Chapter Twelve: Home**

**Bella**

"I know this isn't the best decision I could have made for you, Bella... I'm sorry."

"What isn't? What on earth are you talking about?"

"My coming home."

"Drive faster, Emmett... he's delirious. He needs to lie down. Now."

"I meant the way I made it, sweetheart." He takes my hand from his forehead - where it was checking for fever - and brings it sweetly to his lips. "Without giving you a chance to-"

"Beg you? To make the exact decision you made? That _is _the best one you could have? For both of us?"

"I was going to say _prepare_. Or something along those lines. I didn't give you any time, or-"

"Are you going to be angry with me for whatever isn't perfect for you yet?"

"Of course not."

"Then don't be sorry, Edward. Don't ever be sorry for wanting to go home."

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Edward**

_Don't ever be sorry for wanting to go home..._

Would she have still said it if she knew that's what got us here?

Going home in the back of Emmett's SUV.

Because I can't drive us myself.

And because Bella can't get me into our house without Emmett's help.

Because it's all I wanted that day that our lives changed.

That day I made another decision that she wasn't prepared for.

Couldn't possibly have been.

_Don't ever be sorry for wanting to go home..._

I'm not sorry for wanting to. I'm just sorry I can't get there on my own.

Of my own power.

In every way that I've ever possessed it.

Every way that I don't now.

Possess anything.

But the want.

And the sorrow.

For what I did and what I can't do.

One thing my wife doesn't know.

And others that I wish she didn't have to.

Ever...

But that I can't hide from her.

Because I _am _finally back home with her.

Where I was only trying to get in the first place.

"I'm sorry it took so long," I tell her, hoping she understands. Hoping I don't have to explain what it means.

"You're here," she tells me, telling me she does, and that I don't. "How you got here, and how long it took you to doesn't matter." And then she's out of her seat beside me, and out of the truck, running around to my side and opening the door before Emmett can even get to it. "Hurry up!"

"I hope someone is this excited someday to have me come home," he says when he reaches the open door.

Precisely the reason the humiliation of my best friend having to carry me into our house is even tolerable. Bella _is _excited. She wears it. Dances with it.

"Should I get the chair?" she asks Emmett, not me.

But his answer is the same as the one I would give her. "No, it's too heavy for you. Just get the door. And don't get jealous when I carry your husband over the threshold."

She laughs and rushes ahead of us, her excitement lighting the way. "I'm too loved by my husband to ever get jealous."

"Yes you are," I tell her, the memories of the last time we were in our house together flooding my mind as I'm carried into it.

"Where to?" Emmett asks Bella, not me, once we reach our living room.

"Wherever he wants," she answers, as if there is no other.

As if I were the returned master of this house.

As if I could really choose anything.

"The chair, I guess," I say, because it was once my favorite, though the reasons it was won't matter now. I won't be able to feel them.

"She never let me sit in it," he says, depositing me into it. "Like it was your royal throne or something."

"She never let you because _I _never let you."

"Whatever, _Your Highness_... " He turns and heads back toward the front door. "It just means I got to cuddle up on the couch next to your Queen instead!"

"Liar!" Bella yells after him, laughing and shaking her head as she turns her attention back to me. "There was _no _cuddling."

"I know. I didn't believe him for a second. Now, come here before he comes back in."

She's before me instantly, and lets me pull her into my lap.

And I kiss her like I've waited years to. It's desperate, unapologetic, and unforgiving...

Like the way my hands crush her to me. Without sorrow for why they do.

The same way she lets them. Lets me have everything I need. As desperate to give it to me as I am to take it from her.

Here, in this place where I belong.

With the woman I belong to.

And never belonged without.

Not for an hour, or a day, or a moment...

Coming home was the right choice.

"I'll never let you go again, Edward, no matter what you say."

For both of us.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I know Bella didn't mean it literally...

The thing she said about never letting me go again...

But I wish she had.

Because seconds later she did let go.

And hasn't come back to me since.

Because she's busy. Doing as many things as she can. Things I didn't give her time to do before I came back to the place she wanted me.

Where she could see me.

Something she keeps peeking her head around doorways to do.

She does it every few minutes. Turns her back on whatever she's doing to look at me. Make sure I'm really here. Or still...

"I promise I'm not going to disappear."

"You better not."

"Never. But keep checking... because it's the most precious and beautiful thing I've ever seen you do."

"Ever?" she asks, her brows raised in playful shock.

"Hands down."

"Wow. Then peekaboo it is, Mr. Cullen. Every day. Forever."

"Good. And there's something else I want."

"Name it, it's yours."

I pat the cushion beside me. "Come over here and sit down."

"Where's Emmett?" she asks, realizing suddenly that he isn't occupying our couch anymore and that I am, and demanding she join me on it.

"He'll be back in a minute, with what else I want you to do."

"What else?" she asks, confused, but comes dutifully to my side.

"What else," I repeat, just as Emmett makes his way back in with the pizzas we ordered.

"Edward, I offered to make anything you wanted... Why-"

"Because then you would have been out of my sight even longer, since you banned me from my own kitchen. And because, more than anything else, what I wanted most was to see you _eat_."

"I do, no matter what _he _may have told you."

"_He_ didn't have to tell me anything. My eyes still work. And they don't see what they want to see, which is my beautiful, perfect wife the way they remember her."

"Okay," she concedes, pained by my words.

"One of us has to be the same, Bella."

"Edward... "

"Can you give me that? Since I can't give it to you?"

**…**

**FBoFW**

**... **

"You don't have to eat any more."

"Thank you, because one more bite and it probably would have all come back up."

"Which would have defeated the purpose."

"And ruined our couch."

"And this chair," Emmett adds from the one he's sitting in. "Because then I'd have lost it."

"Well, this isn't a place where anyone loses anything." Bella declares, and gets up from beside me and starts cleaning up our mess. "So, can I get either of you anything?"

"Just you back quickly," I answer, because it's all I want. And for her words to be true.

"As fast as I can," she tells me, leaning down and sweeping her lips lightly along my jaw before walking away.

"I don't think you could even comprehend how much she missed you," Emmett says as soon as she's out of earshot.

"I more than comprehend it, Emmett."

"Yeah, I guess maybe you do. Because if there are any two people on this earth that should never be without each other, it's the two of you."

I don't respond to his declaration, because the reason for it just rushed back into the room. _Quickly_, because it's what I asked for. And, I think, because it's what she wanted just as much.

Because Emmett is right, we should never be without each other, though hearing him say it is a bit of a shock. That wears off the second I look at her...

Because Emmett spent a lot of time with my wife when I couldn't. Time I asked him to spend, and maybe time I didn't have to.

And my wife could change any man's views on life. And what's important in it.

In the blink of an eye she could change them...

Just as quickly as everything changed for her as hers were closed.

Just as quickly as she lost.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Call me if you need anything."

I watch as Bella hugs my best friend. Something I've never seen her do before. "Thank you. I will if he does, but-"

"But _you _have everything you need already."

"I do," she tells him, looking down at me like she's lost nothing.

A look that hurts, because she has.

"Take care of our girl," he says, kissing her on the cheek and then slapping me on the shoulder as he walks past me.

"_My_ girl," I correct as he laughs and Bella shoves him towards the foyer.

"See you in the morning!" he calls just before the door closes and I'm truly alone with my wife for the first time in what feels like forever.

Something I know feels the same to her as she comes back into the living room and smiles at me. A smile I'd give anything never to see leave her face.

"I love you," I tell her, because I need to.

Need to hear the sound of it. And need her to.

The sound that makes her smile wider, and her steps back to me quicker.

"I love you, too," she says, sitting back down and snuggling into my side.

Where she stays.

Happy and content.

Until I whisper the words that don't come out as effortlessly.

The words I struggle to say.

Because they may never sound the same as they once did.

"Let's go to bed, sweetheart."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Bella wasn't as unprepared for my homecoming as I'd thought. And not as hopeful, either.

For _what _would come home to her.

She created a bedroom for us downstairs. Almost an exact copy of the one up.

The one I loved. My favorite room in our house.

The one I can't get to.

The one she knew I wouldn't be able to.

She _knew_. She just didn't know when.

None of my things were here yet. And none of hers...

Things she just came back in with arms full of. "I wasn't sure what you wanted to sleep in, or put on in the morning, but I can go back up if-"

"Whatever you brought is fine," I tell her, stilling both her words and her hands as I grab the latter in mine. "But I gave you every woman's dream closet for a reason, and you should keep it full."

She eyes the things she brought down for herself and lifts each of my hands to her lips before pulling free of them and picking them up. "My dream closet is one I share with you."

Words that don't surprise me as I watch her hang her things in the one in here, and mine alongside them, and then close the door with a wistful smile, as if she's locked them in together and nothing can ever separate them.

And continue watching as she sets aside something for each of us to sleep in before she puts the rest of our things into dresser drawers, not missing her careful in-my-reach placement of mine.

Something it pains me to see her do. And something I want her to know I'll change if I can. "I'll never give up trying to get out of this chair, Bella."

"You never give up on anything," she tells me, walking back to the bed. "Which is exactly how you got me to fall in love with you."

"I wanted you to more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life."

"An honor I will always cherish," she whispers, kissing me sweetly, before grabbing her pajamas from the bed and walking towards the door. "I'm just going to go change, I'll be right back."

"Why would you leave the room to do that?"

"I don't know, I-"

"Don't."

"Okay."

"I may not be able to do what I'd like to do to you... but my eyes _do _still work, and they've missed you, too."

"I didn't mean to make you feel... I'm sorry, please don't-"

"Don't apologize, Bella, just don't take anything away from me."

"I'd never do that, Edward. Wouldn't and won't. Everything you want from me is yours. And it always will be."

"I want to see you."

"Okay," she says again, coming back until she stands before me, and tossing her pajamas back on the bed.

And with them discarded and forgotten, she undresses slowly. But not with any seductive intent or display, because it's not what I asked for.

I didn't ask her to entertain or tease me...

I just wanted to see what's mine. What I fought and never gave up for the right to see. And to touch.

"You're too thin, Bella," I tell her, as my hands move over her. "You didn't take care of yourself when I wasn't here."

"I'll do better now that you're back, I promise."

"You will," I declare, in a tone she'd never argue with, "because I want my wife back. All of her."

"Okay," she says yet again, threading her fingers gently through my hair.

So gently, and with so much love and affection that it ignites in me a need to show her my own.

That I wish wasn't limited because I am.

But don't let the pain of that desperate wish consume me, because the desperation to consume her is stronger.

I _did_ miss her. I missed every part of her.

Her soft lips... that I pull down to mine. That part willingly for me, and let me take my fill.

Her neck... that exposes itself to me when I have, because she knows it's what I wanted next.

She _knows_...

What I want, and what I need...

And she'll give it to me. Let me take it...

What's mine.

She'll let me take it back...

For _me_, not herself.

Because even though she loves what I'm going to do to her... to the sweet part of her my mouth is making its way to...

She's not letting it out of greed.

Her fingers are still threaded through my hair... but they're only that. _Still_. Motionless. And patient.

Letting me have control, and asking for none. Asking for nothing at all as I take it.

She's putty in my hands...

That pull at her in frustration as I get closer to what I want. My mouth is on her stomach now... and she stands on the tips of her toes so that it can reach it...

Which only frustrates me more. Makes me angry. Because she's uncomfortable. Trembling with the strain of it instead of what I want her to.

"Lay down, Bella," I order, pushing her towards the bed.

An order she follows without hesitation as I try to maneuver my chair to better reach her. The part of her that I want to drop to my knees and bury myself in.

Something I can't do. Something else...

Something I want to scream about...

Until I see her face. Her eyes on mine. That show me understanding, instead of pity. And patience, the way her hands did moments ago.

And her silent mouth, beautifully swollen from my kisses...

The ones she waited for...

For too long. Like the ones I want to give her now.

Pull her closer so that I can.

Get lost in her.

And found.

As the part of her I ached to consume consumes me.

"I missed you, Bella... " I tell her, because I need her to know how much I did. Something I know I didn't have to...

Something I know I'm making her feel as she trembles with it... the only way she ever should... "I missed all of you... "

Something I also know she understands...

As her hands grip desperately the luxurious down beneath her...

As I grip her far more luxurious flesh in my own...

And devour her most...

Because she let me come home and take it back...

Waited for me to...

Her all...

With unwavering love and devotion...

Even knowing I can't give her mine.

**xx**

**I didn't mean for it to be this short. Or take so long to deliver. But it's what it is, and where I want to end it until next time. Which, if anyone is doubting about Come Closer having one of, DON'T. It will. Nothing I said at the end of the last one meant it wouldn't.**

**Thanks for reading. Anything you may be here. **

**xo, **

**Chloe**


	13. Chapter 13: Choices

**Chapter Thirteen: Choices**

**Bella**

"I know you just want to do what's best, Bella, and I'll respect any decision you make, but please don't rush to make it. I'd hate to lose you. And the kids... well, you know how much the kids love you. The ones you've taught, and the ones who've been waiting excitedly all summer to be in your class. Your end of school year visits to the kindergarten classes are always a hit. They can't wait to come back to school. And _you_."

"I never meant to tease them, Bill."

"I know that."

"I love the kids. And I look forward to every school year, too, but this one... it-"

"Would be a sad one without you."

"I just don't know how I can do it... leave him alone... He has to come first."

"I understand that, Bella. He's your husband, and you love him... but are you sure that giving this part of yourself up for him is really the best thing? For either of you?"

"No. I'm not sure. But-"

"Think about it some more. And discuss it with him. Take as much time as you need to _be_ sure. We'll start the year with a substitute if we have to. But I'm going to hope that you come back... while I wait for your call. Your _next _one."

That call wasn't easy to make. And not easy to leave knowing he'd be waiting for another. Because I thought when I made it, that it would be the only.

My decision had been made. The one I thought was best. Was the only one I _could _make...

Until he asked me if it was. For Edward.

And then I wasn't sure.

And now I turn from the window, because what's outside of it doesn't matter. My answer will be found _in_.

And maybe even sooner than I think. "Edward... I didn't hear you come in... How long have you been there?"

I know the answer to that... _Too long_... because he looks angry. But I wait for him to tell me.

"Why did you tell Bill you weren't coming back, Bella?"

"Because I think you need me here."

"So, your kids... the job that you love... take pride in... the job that you're better at than anyone in the world... what? Don't matter? Because you think I need you?"

"I love you more. And I take pride in being your wife. More than anything else. In being the best one I can be... and-"

"You _are_."

"Then-"

"But it's not _all_ you are."

"Edward-"

"And I won't let it be. Won't let you let it."

"But-"

"Call him back, Bella."

"Let's just talk about it. I'll-"

"We just did. And now we're done. Call him back. And tell him you'll _be_."

"Edward, please... there's time. I want to-"

"Be a good wife?"

"Well, of course I do. And-"

"Then do as you're told."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"So, is it alright? If I come for a few days?"

"Why would you ask me that, Charlie?"

"Because you're the man of the house. Well, _maybe_... "

We both laugh, because it's hard to be that with the woman of this one. And because it's no secret to anyone close to us that I'm often on my knees before her.

Or was... when I could still get down on them...

"And because you're the man I'm coming to see. If that's okay with you."

"You never have to ask me, Charlie. You're always welcome here."

"That's good to know. Then I'll see you tomorrow night. Give my beautiful daughter a kiss for me."

"With pleasure."

Because _that_ I can do.

If she'll let me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"You're ordered to let me give you a kiss."

"Ordered by whom?"

"Your dad."

"Is that right?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And you support this? Me taking orders from someone besides you?"

"Well, I wouldn't normally, but in this case... "

"You do?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"So... "

"Well, then I guess I have no choice but to let you. Since you do. And since that's almost like it's coming from you... and God knows I'd never disobey one of _those_... "

"I know you're mad at me, Bella... "

"I'm not mad at you, Edward. I just don't like it when you take my choices away. And me going back to teaching the kids this school year should have been my choice, not yours. It should have been a decision we made together, not an order you gave me because you made it for me."

"Because you'd already made the wrong one."

"One that I was willing to rethink. By talking to you, my husband, who I made it for. But you didn't let me do that."

"Because _I_ had no choice. You weren't listening to me. To what I'd already told you."

"What have you ever told me that I didn't listen to?"

"That one of us has to be the same."

"Edward... "

"I need that, Bella. And you're the only one of us that can give it to me."

"I'd give you anything. You _know _that. And it's all I wanted to do by making the decision not to-"

"I _do _know that."

_And that I can't let you give me too much. _

_I can't let you give until there's nothing left of you._

"So, come down here. And let me give you something. For once."

"Edward, you give me everything."

_Not anymore, Bella. _

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"Please don't be upset. It's not a big deal... at all... it-"

"Not a big deal? Look at you!"

"Edward, it's okay. I-"

"You're covered in piss, Bella! _My _piss! For no reason but that you slept next to me! I pissed on my wife while she slept! My sweet, beautiful, perfect wife! That's a big deal, Bella! It's a big deal to me!"

"It was an accident... and nothing that can't be fixed with a shower and a dry set of-"

"Go! Now! Wash it off!"

"I will... just let me help you first. And-"

"I don't want you to help me! I'm humiliated enough!"

_Humiliated? _"Don't say that, Edward. Don't _ever _say that. Not to me... your wife that you think is so sweet and beautiful and perfect... because she's still the same. _I'm _still the same. And so are you, in all of the ways that matter. And I love you. And you should never be humiliated with me. About anything. And let me-"

"I said go!"

"Please... "

"NOW!"

Edward has never screamed at me like that before. So loud and with so much force that it made me jump. Tremble. And take a step back.

Edward has never screamed at me at all. Has barely ever even raised his voice. Because I've never given him reason to.

And because he's gentle and kind. Because he loves me. Thinks I'm sweet, and beautiful, and perfect...

Something I already knew he did. Before he told me. And before he told me he was humiliated. Screamed it... and for me to go. Louder and harder. After he did.

Another order I obey. With a whisper... "Okay."

Because I don't know what else to do. Or say.

But I will.

I vow it to myself as I walk away.

That next time - something I have to admit to myself there might be - I'll know there's a choice. That I'll have one.

A thing I can do... or say...

Instead of letting him push me away.

Order it.

Again.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I didn't go immediately back into our bedroom after I showered and dressed. I wanted to... but I wanted to give Edward time.

To do the same. Something that takes him longer than it does me. Now...

And because I didn't want to humiliate him even further by going back too soon.

Before he was finished.

And ready to face me again. And himself through my eyes.

That only see what he sees...

Sweet and beautiful and perfect.

What he's always been to me. _For _me.

Before he thought he was less.

Something he's not... could never be to me... but believes he is.

Something I knew he might someday feel... struggle with...

Though I'd hoped he wouldn't.

But something we'll face. Together. Because what I hoped for didn't happen.

And something I never gave a thought to did.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

Bella is sitting on the granite-topped island when I wheel myself into our kitchen. There's an empty glass beside her, and she's toying absently with the cap on the bottle of orange juice.

And I'd give anything to know what she's thinking, but it's not what I say to her. "It's early, you should have stayed upstairs after your shower and gone back to bed."

"I would have woken up in a little over an hour anyway, so I figured I might as well just get an early start to the day. And I was just about to pour myself a glass of orange juice, would you like some?"

"Sure. And I'd also like to talk about what happened. What I did."

"You don't have to... " she says, jumping down and getting another glass from the low cabinet across from it. The place she moved them to for me. "We don't have to talk about it at all."

"I do, Bella. I have to."

"Okay," she agrees easily, _too_ easily this time, filling both glasses and carrying them to the table.

She sets one within my reach, and pulls out a chair and sits down next to the other. And in front of me.

Something I wish she wouldn't have done.

"You don't have to level yourself with me. I'm not worthy of it. You can go back to your perch."

"I was uncomfortable up there."

"I've always been beneath you, Bella. We both know that. You just fell in love with me in spite of it. I don't have a problem looking up at you. Certainly not now. After what I did. Though, I admit, looking at you at all is kind of hard after that."

"Are you finished?"

"No... I haven't even begun... "

"Well, you're going to have to wait a minute, because you're going to listen to me first."

"Okay."

"I never thought you were beneath me, Edward. I-"

"That's not true."

"You're talking about when we met? I didn't think you were beneath me, I just knew you'd been on top of everybody else. Of my gender, anyway. And I knew you wanted to get on top of me. And I merely expressed to you that you'd never get that chance. Which, as it turned out, and as you know, wasn't true at all."

"I'm sorry, Bella. Not for that... but-"

"I know. It's okay."

"No, it's not okay... I don't know what happened. It never happened when I was in that stupid jail of a place. Not to me. Other guys had mentioned it... but it never once happened to me. It's why I wasn't afraid to let you sleep with me. I thought I had control... was grateful that I did... knew I was lucky... until... God, Bella, I'm so sorry... "

"I know that you are, Edward, but you don't have to be. It was an accident. And it's over. Forgotten."

"Until it happens again."

She's thoughtful as she looks at me... but then suddenly smiles. "Since when do you apologize for sharing your bodily fluids with me?"

"Since I shared the one I didn't mean to."

"Yes... but did I complain? Run screaming? _Ever_?"

"No. You never did that."

"And I never would."

"Thank you, Bella."

"You're welcome."

"And more than anything... that I've _ever _done... I'm sorry that I yelled at you. You didn't deserve that... and I hate myself for it. I-"

"Hey! Don't ever say that, either. Not ever again. You can't hate my husband. Because he's sweet... and beautiful... and _perfect_. To me. And he always will be. And I'll kick your ass if you ever say a negative word about him. Capiche?"

_Fuck, I love my wife._ "Yes, ma'am."

"That's _Mrs. Cullen_ to you."

"A choice I let you make, if I may humbly point out," I tell her, because I did. Humbly. And she _did _choose me. And I'll never be more thankful for anything in my life...

Than that this sweet, beautiful, perfect woman married me...

This woman whose sweet, beautiful, perfect laughter now fills the space around us - and any I had put between us - as she gets up from her chair and comes to look down at me in mine. With nothing but sweet, beautiful, perfect love in her eyes.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Cullen."

"I did let you. I may have begged you, but I let you choose to say yes. You didn't let me give you orders then. Believe me, you'd have said it sooner if you did."

"I'm not going to keep letting you, you know? Now... if you keep ordering me away."

"I really am sorry, Bella."

"I know you are. And I forgive you. Because I know why you did... this time... even though you shouldn't ever feel that way... not with me. _Me_, Edward... who _chose _you. Like you said. _Chose _to say yes. _Chose _to marry you. _Chose _to love you, because I couldn't not. You made it impossible. And still do. Every minute of every day... even when you think you're not. That I couldn't. I _still _do, Edward. More _because _you think I might not. More because you're so wrong when you do...

"So, listen. _Hear _me. Because I have an order for you, _husband_. Stop ordering me away! I choose to stay."

"Are you finished? _Wife_?" I ask her, just like she asked me.

And she laughs again. And says "Yes." Again...

"Good," I say. And "Now, come down here." Again.

Because I _am _beneath her.

And want to be.

Without humiliation or shame.

For as long as she chooses me.

"That's more like it, Mr. Cullen."

**xx**

**So, it's a little short. Kind of like the beginning was. And I think that's fitting, actually. Because this chapter is like a preview. Of what's to come. In most every way. And I suppose you'll interpret that however you want to. Because everyone always does here. Everything. Which more means here in my world than _here_ specifically. **

**And I want to thank those of you _here_ for that. Because you - my readers here - on this story - are truly amazing. You seem to all get it. And don't hate me for any of it. Or don't tell me if you do. And do tell me when you feel something else. The something this story is about. The something I try my best to portray. So, thank you. Again. For not yelling at me. And for being kind. Choosing to. Even when we're not.**


	14. Chapter 14: A Beautiful Mess

**Chapter Fourteen: A Beautiful Mess**

**Edward**

"Dinner was great, sweetheart. Can I help you clean up? You wash, I dry?"

"Thanks, Dad. And no, absolutely not. Why don't you and Edward go into the living room and relax?"

"Because then you'd be in here alone," I answer, stilling her hand as she reaches for my plate.

Because I may not be able to help her with the dishes like I always did–I washed, she dried–but I can at least get them to the sink, which she lets me do without argument, though she could do it much faster herself.

"Thank you, handsome," she tells me, once the last plate has clattered still, and still in one piece, I think, in the bottom of the sink where I dropped it.

"No, thank _you_," I correct, "because your dad was right, dinner was great."

"You'd say that even if I burned it to a crisp." She leans down and kisses me sweetly, before looking past me. "And so would my dad. And it's just one of the many reasons why I love you both so much."

"And because we're both so devilishly good looking?" Charlie asks, pretending to admire his reflection in a spoon. "Me especially?"

"Definitely for that reason," she laughs, and takes the spoon from him.

And my breath from me.

Because her beautiful laughter will always do that to me.

Because it's pure.

Natural and unforced.

Like the love in her eyes when she looks back at me and finds me watching her.

And the pride. Because she still feels that, too, when she finds my eyes on her.

Even now... still...

No matter what kind of husband I've become to her...

She's still proud to be my wife.

Whether anyone's watching or not.

And even if that anyone is one of the most important people in her life–like now.

Because Charlie _is _watching.

And is doing it no differently than he ever has.

And with no less of a smile on his face at what he sees.

Because he's still proud, too. That his daughter is still in love with the man that he loved first. The man he told her was good, and good enough.

Would never be anything but to her, if she gave him the chance to show her. To prove it.

He had faith in me. Trust...

That I was sincere. That my pleas and declarations for her were honest and heartfelt.

That a woman like her...

So extraordinary in every way...

Could change any man. And had.

And she listened. To him. And to me. Eventually...

Stopped running from me. Stopped hiding from me. And stopped being afraid.

To let her heart speak louder than her head.

Her heart that was already mine...

But that she'd been afraid to listen to. And let guide her. To the place I begged her to come to.

And wanted her never to leave once she was there.

The place where she is now.

Still without regret.

And still with her father's encouragement. "You know, I think I'm even smarter than I am good looking." That breaks into the silence...

And brings a beautiful noise. "You are, Dad. Positively genius. It's why I've always listened to you, and your genius advice."

He laughs, because maybe she hasn't always...

Because my sweet, beautiful, and perfect wife can be a little stubborn when she wants to be...

But then he smiles proudly. And gives me a firm slap on the shoulder as he walks by.

"Well, this genius is going to go kick his feet up and bask in his achievement. His _finest_."

"You do that, Dad," Bella calls after him. "We'll be right behind you!" And tosses the dishtowel on the counter and sits herself in my lap. "Let's go, handsome. You earned his basking."

I did...

But as I wheel us out of our kitchen, all I can think about is if he'll someday stop.

Because something else changed me.

The me that she'd made better.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"So, how's my boy? Really?"

"Struggling, Charlie."

"Any part of that struggling I might be able to help you with?"

"Can you make me not a liar?"

"I've never known you to be a liar, Edward."

"I made promises to your daughter. And to you. About what I would give her. What I would be for her. What I would–"

"And you've kept them."

"I _had _kept them. Now... well, now I'm just a liar."

"I don't think you and I agree on what a liar is. Because there sure as hell isn't one sitting in front of me."

"The fact that I'm _sitting _in front of you makes that not true, Charlie."

"You think so? Well, again, we _disagree_."

"Come on, Charlie... I know you like me, love me even, and God knows I've always been grateful for that, but no father would ever wish what sits before you now for his daughter."

"No? Well, let's discuss that, shall we? What I wish. And what sits before me. What I see...

"I see a man. A man who worships the ground my daughter walks on. And the air she breathes. And the sun that warms her skin.

"A man who, even if he were standing, would fall to the aforementioned ground in a shameless heap of goo at so much as a smile from her no matter who was looking.

"A man who would put the world in her hands if it was in his power to do it. A man who practically has.

"A man who has loved her with his whole heart, and other things I'd really rather not think about...

"A man who has loved her with his _all_, and all the while wished he had more to do it with. And give her. Even though she wanted or needed for nothing. Would never... _could _never...

"A man who would lay down his life for her as willingly as he offered it to her. Begged her to take it. Share the whole of it. And be the center of it.

"What sits before me, Edward, is a _man_. The man my daughter loves. Will always...

"And the man I do. My son-in-law... who's _exactly_ what I'd wish for her. And what I did. And what I still do."

"But–"

"But nothing. A man doesn't have to be standing to love. To be anything or everything. And sure as hell not to _be _loved. Or wished for. By me or by her. He only has to be a man. _The_. The one I'm looking at."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"It's nice to meet you, Tyler. You're spoken very highly of around here."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Swan, and likewise."

"Call him Charlie," Bella tells him, "Mr. Swan makes him feel old."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And that makes me," she says now, and glances at me. "Unless it's my husband saying it... then it makes me... " She trails off and then clears her throat, making Tyler and I laugh and her dad cringe.

"Sorry, Dad. The point was, he's supposed to call me Bella, and he knows it." She shoots Tyler a stern glare, to which he salutes, and makes everyone laugh this time. And fall in line.

"Very nice," she says, and continues with a satisfied smile, "Anyway, Dad... they're going to be busy for a while, and there are a few things I need to pick up, so I figured I'd do it while they are. Do you want to come with me?"

"Actually, sweetheart," I interject before he can answer her, "I was going to ask your dad if he'd sit in on our session." Because I want him to see me work.

Know how hard I'm trying...

Fighting...

To be that man he saw before the one he sees now.

Even though he thinks we're the same.

Accepted both of us...

I want him to _see_...

How much I don't. "If he–and you–wouldn't mind?"

"Of course I wouldn't," she answers immediately. For herself. And for me.

Before she looks at her dad with trusting eyes.

The ones that he gave her, before he told her to give them to me.

And "I'd be honored to sit in, Edward."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"I said I'd be honored... but you didn't have to do that... prove anything to me... I know who you are."

"I did have to."

"Have you _had to_ with Bella?"

"No. Not yet. I want to... want to show her... but I'd like to be able to show her _more_."

"Well, I understand that, Edward... but I think you should let her show you something. And that you shouldn't wait too long to. Because you need to see, too. Let her remind you...

"That she loves you the way she does because you already did."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"You know what I love?" Bella asks, her eyes glued to my face, where they've been since Charlie left.

"Well, you said _what _instead of _who_, so... cream cheese scrambled eggs?"

My wife smiles at me–and then at the plate I put in front of her–and gathers a generous bite onto her fork. "I love that you always look a little sad after my dad leaves."

"I love your dad," I tell her, and watch her slip the forkful of eggs into her mouth.

"I know," she says, once she's swallowed, and after a satisfied moan... "That's why I love it."

"He loves me, too, you know... " I tease, and maybe defend just a little... "It's not one-sided."

"Oh, I know that, too... " she laughs, "He's probably got tears streaming down his cheeks as we speak for having to leave you and go back to his wife."

"Perhaps," I say with a proud smirk, making her laugh even harder.

And me make another promise.

To myself.

That she'll always have reasons to.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

I've been thinking a lot about what Charlie said...

About letting Bella see. And letting myself. Letting her show me...

And, though she does every day... every minute...

I think it's time I did.

Take my father-in-law's advice.

And, like Bella did, stop being afraid to be vulnerable.

I said I wanted to show her more...

Something she once needed me to do...

But I don't want to wait for that anymore.

Waste time waiting for it.

Or make her.

Because it may never happen.

That day may never come.

What I am on this one may be all I ever have to give her. The _enough _her eyes tell me I am if it is.

She sees me in this chair everyday...

Sees _me_, not it.

And loves me no less. No matter how much I am. So, making her wait...

For something she's never asked for, and something I know she never would...

Feels selfish.

Something I promised her I'd never be.

And something, even though these walls could tell tales...

Wonderful, heavenly tales of a man's greed...

And a loving woman's devotion to satisfy it...

I've never been. Because there are other tales to be told.

"Bella, would you do something for me?" I ask her, wanting there to be more of _both_.

And her answer is automatic. Much like it's always been. Because she loves me so much... "Of course I would. Anything."

And tells me Charlie was right. And that I was right to listen to him. "Would you join Tyler and me today? I'd like you to know what we do. What we're trying to-"

"I'd love to," she says just as automatically, and with as much love as she's ever said or done anything to me. Or for.

"Thank you, sweetheart. For saying yes."

To _everything_.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I didn't hesitate when Edward asked me to join him in his therapy today...

I said yes.

It was easy. Automatic.

He wanted something and I wanted to give it to him.

I know the asking wasn't as easy... for him...

Inviting me to see him at his most vulnerable...

Watch him struggle...

Fight...

Against something that seemingly has already won...

But that I know hasn't. Because I know my husband. And that he'd never give up that easily.

Something I knew before he showed me.

Before he let me see him sweat. And strain. And push himself harder that I've ever seen him...

Which, believe me, for my husband... well, it's no small thing.

_Epic _comes to mind.

Extraordinary.

Astounding.

Breathtaking...

All Edward in every way.

_Still_.

I know why he wanted me there with him. Why he swallowed his pride and asked me.

I _know _what he wanted me to see. What he wanted to show me...

And I, like my dad when he'd asked him, was honored...

But he didn't have to.

Honor me. Prove _anything _to me.

I know who I married. And I know _what_.

I married a man. A strong... determined... put-it-all-out-there-and-leave-nothing-inside _man_.

What he's been to me–and for–from the moment he decided what he wanted _was _me.

No matter how hard it was on him. How hard I _made _it for him. How seemingly impossible...

He never gave up. Never stopped trying. And never failed to awe and amaze me with his effort.

I didn't tell him that, of course... then...

That I was awed and amazed...

I knew he'd just use it in his already-overflowing arsenal of weapons against me.

But he got it out of me eventually.

When _I _stopped fighting.

Because trying to win against my husband...

Well... you have to be bigger than me.

You have to be...

Something I've never seen.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

That wasn't easy...

Showing Bella my weaknesses...

Letting her see something beat me...

No matter how hard I tried not to let it...

Fought...

BATTLED...

It wasn't easy at all.

And, though I don't think it was easy for her to watch, at moments, anyway, she did.

Every movement.

And every one that I wanted to be but wasn't.

She never took her eyes off of me. Even when mine weren't on her, I know she didn't.

Because even when I couldn't see them, I could _feel_ them.

Exactly where–from the first moment I looked into them–I wanted them to always be.

On me.

Smiling for. Shining... with fire and excitement and love...

I wanted them. To capture them. Hold them. And keep.

Know that they were only for me.

_Mine_...

And would only ever be.

And only ever be filled with happiness, something I believed I had the power to control if she'd just hand them over to me.

An unrealistic goal, perhaps...

Though I only admit that now because I failed to make it an accomplished one.

Or keep it one, anyway.

Because I left them. Their sight, even though they were closed...

They looked happy when they were open. Because we were. Made each other. In every way.

Every single day...

Even the ones we had to spend apart.

Until that fateful one.

That made those too many.

And put so many other things into them.

Bella's eyes...

That the fear returned to. Because she was vulnerable again.

Because I made her that way.

Not for me...

Not like that other way she was...

That she stopped being afraid of and was so often willing to be for me after she did...

If it was what I wanted...

Craved seeing her be...

But the way she is now. Vulnerable to the things I can't control, but are me. Part of.

But working against me instead of with.

Against us.

My beautiful wife and the husband I want to be to her. And for her. And with...

Again...

Something I dream of every night. Pray for every day. Fight for... with everything I have in me...

Everything that isn't enough.

Yet.

Please only be _yet_...

_Please_, God...

My mouth moves with my broken-record prayer...

But, as if to mock me... laugh at me... taunt me... my legs don't. Don't go where I want them to.

Not on their own.

My will not strong enough to guide them.

So I have to.

And the rest of me, that I awkwardly drag into the bathtub.

The new one Bella had put in on the first floor of our house.

That is an exact match to the one on another. A higher...

The one big enough for five people...

Three too many...

And that now feels like an ocean to one.

Because I'm one too few.

And sitting in the new instead of the old.

Something else that mocks me as I sit in it alone.

Something I never did until I couldn't do anything but.

I never got into the old one without my wife.

And did because she invited me...

Lured me...

With words and without.

Whenever she was in it alone. Because it was too big. For just one.

Too calm.

Too still.

Too... _wrong_.

Like this one feels now. And did every other day since I've been home and had to get in it.

Because I had to, instead of wanted. For practical reasons, instead of fun. Out of necessity, instead of the needs of another sort that took me to that other before.

That brought me... _us_... so much...

Well, there's sure as hell no point in thinking about _that_. Because I can't give her shit now. In that tub or this one. Or anywhere else.

And she can't give me anything. _Because _I can't. Because my worthless fucking...

"Edward?" My painful thought is cut off by Bella's sweet voice calling to me from outside the door.

"Yeah?" I answer with a sigh. And an admittedly childish slap at the water that makes it splash out and onto the floor.

"Can I come in?"

_It can't be any more humiliating than what she just saw, right?_ "Sure. Do you have a–"

"A what?" she asks, when I don't finish.

Because she doesn't have what I thought she might. She has something else... "Uh... I thought maybe you had a jar you wanted me to open for you or something... but that's not a jar."

"Well, you _are _the master of jar opening, but you should know that I would never be so impatient as to interrupt your bath to do it. And no, it's not."

And, though I know, because it's a simple item she holds in her hands, I ask her anyway... "What is it?"

"A request."

"A request?" I repeat, eyeing the crystal pitcher again briefly before looking back up at her.

"Yes," she answers simply, her eyes where they always are when she asks me for anything... looking directly into mine.

"I'd be more than happy to squeeze you some fresh orange juice as soon as I'm finished in here," I tell her, knowing it's not what she's asking me for, but unable not to say the stupid words.

"I've gotten reaccustomed to drinking the stuff that comes in a bottle," she informs me, playing along for the moment.

But that hurts, too. "I'm sorry you have."

"You took good care of me, Edward. _Extraordinary _care...

"Spoiled me... far more than I did you. And my request... well, it's that I'd like to take a turn. And do something for you. If you'd allow me?"

"Allow, huh?" I ask her, her use of that particular word not sounding the way it once did. On other occasions when she asked if I might allow her to do other things...

Things she wanted to do for me. And to...

Things that _did _spoil me...

Made me feel like a king...

A god...

"Of course," she says, as if there were no other response I'd want or accept from her.

"Unfortunately, Bella... I think our days of playing 'Edward, may I' are over. And–"

"I disagree," she says, passion in her eyes. "Respectfully, of course. Because you love that game. And can. Always."

"I wish that were true," I tell her, knowing that if it were... if it was possible at all... my cock would be hard as a rock from her words and I'd be telling her to ask me for it. If she hadn't already at the sight–or mere knowledge–of its, and my, love for that game... "But it's obviously not."

I gesture her to follow my shamed gaze to my limp and pathetic form in the water and she doesn't refuse, silently or otherwise. But she doesn't acquiesce, either. Or wait for me to _allow _her to do anything.

She walks with confidence up to the edge of the tub and sits the heavy pitcher on the corner to the right of the faucet. Then slips off the cardigan she wore over her simple white t-shirt–that I now see she wasn't wearing a bra beneath–and tosses it to the floor next to her already-bare feet. Bare and wet, like her sweater now, thanks to my childishness. Something I want to warn her about, though I know it's too late...

And still want to, even though her feet already told her...

And even though she, without a word about it, told me she didn't care about by doing it anyway. And again, because her jeans now join her wet sweater...

And then, still wearing her t-shirt, and also-white cotton panties, that I've always found sexy as hell, steps into the growing-cool water.

"The only thing that's obvious to me," she tells me, bending over to pull the plug, and giving me a reminder of just how fucking sexy they are, "is that I'll have a floor to mop when we're done here."

"I'm sorry I made a mess," I tell her, because I am. So fucking sorry for this mess her life has become...

"Since when?" she asks with a smirk over her shoulder, not taking my regret-filled words seriously, and turning on the tap, filling and emptying the tub simultaneously.

"Since that day I left you in our bed alone," I tell her honestly, the words flying out of my mouth before I can stop them. And followed by others... that I never wanted her to know... and still don't, even as I confess them. "And then turned around to go back to you."

"What?" she asks, turning to face me, all traces of playfulness lost with my words that carried none to her ears.

"I turned around," I repeat, because, like that day, it's too late to take it back now. "To come back here. To you, who I never should have left."

"You had a meeting," she says, trying to defend me, and the guilt she now knows I feel. Have felt for months...

"It wasn't more important than you."

"You never had to choose, Edward," she says now...

_Declares_...

And drops to her knees between my_ positioned_-open legs in the nearly-empty-now tub. Which she doesn't seem to notice. Or ignores... grabbing my face between her trembling hands. "You _never _had to choose between me and living your dream. I never would have asked you for that."

"I know that," I tell her, and then choke on what else I try to. "_I_ ch-ch-chose. _Me_. Like always. Like I did with everything... since the day you said I do to me. And those _archaic _vows I asked you to say to me."

"I wouldn't have said those _archaic _vows if I didn't trust you," she says, still defending me. And the place of honor she's always let me stand tall and proud in. And now, sit in... anything but either.

"I never meant to bring us here, Bella... " I push, the shame and guilt overwhelming me, "to this... "

My words fall from my mouth unfinished, and lie limp and lifeless with the rest of me... in this cold, hard, empty place my wife still fights to make perfect for us. For me... as she wordlessly drops one hand from my face and reaches back to replace the plug, so the water will rise warm and soothing around our shivering bodies. And then drops the other, which, together with her first, its task now accomplished, she lovingly uses to lower my legs one at a time to lie flat along the smooth bottom of the tub.

"There's nowhere else I want to be, Edward," she whispers, though her unwavering devotion to me screams the words at me, "So, whether you meant to bring us here or not, I'm grateful to you for–"

"Don't, Bella. It's not–"

"This beautiful life we have. That I have lived being spoiled for all of... taken extraordinary care of through every moment of... in this beautiful home... by the most–"

"Bella, please... "

"Beautiful, gentle, and kind husband a woman could ever dream of having love her. And _choose _her... "

"Bella... "

"I'm _grateful_. To _you_. And will be for the rest of our lives... that I said _those _vows, that I have _never _wished I wouldn't have said to you. And never wished you hadn't have asked me to say. And that I would say again... word for trusting word... archaic or not... on this day or any of the others I may have the honor of spending with you. My husband. The man I love beyond comprehension. Beyond reason. And beyond change... of _any _kind... that could ever fall upon us... by innocent, beautiful choice or by chance...

"So, stop apologizing to me. And stop feeling guilty. And blaming yourself. For _anything_. And start being proud. Again. That I love you. And for –as you damn well know–making me. And making me want to. And show you that I do. Even more than I ever have before. In any way and every. In any game you love, or moment like this that isn't one...

"Be _that _Edward. The one who promised me this beautiful life, and then made a mess on my floor... "

She pauses and reaches back again, this time to turn the water off, because the tub is full. Nearly spilling over...

And does when she moves back... straddles my legs, still on her knees... and grabs the soap... and the washcloth...

And smiles. "... That I will gladly clean up. As soon as I'm done with _him_."

_Fuck..._

_I LOVE my wife._

**xx**

**Thank you for your patience in waiting for this. It wasn't my choice to make you.**

**And thank you, Edward and Bella, most of all, for giving me what I was afraid I'd lost. Some of you here might know what that means. And how much, perhaps, it means to me. And how happy I am right now. xo**


	15. Chapter 15: Up and Down

**Chapter Fifteen: Up and Down**

**Bella**

I see Edward at the bottom of the stairs when I reach the second landing. I know he can't have been there long, I only ran up them a few minutes ago.

But seeing him there...

In that place he's stuck because it was as far as he could go...

As far as he could chase me, though he wasn't trying to, and though I certainly wasn't running from him...

It nearly takes my legs from me.

Mine, that will do whatever I want them to.

And whatever he wants, which is what they're doing now, as I force them to keep moving.

Because I have to get to work. Work that's never felt like, but does now. Since the day I went back to it. Because it's what he ordered me to do.

"Do you need something from up there?" I ask him as I reach the bottom step, just in front of where he sits.

His eyes move upward for a few seconds, and I see the _YES! _that screams inside of them, inside of _him_, but he keeps it from me. "Not anymore," he answers instead, and forces his lips to smile at me. "Everything I need just came down."

"And it has to go," I tell him, instead of the hundred other things I want to. "So, if it's okay with you, it would like to go down a little further so it can."

He immediately rolls his chair back, because he was blocking my way–the way directly in front of me, anyway–and because he misunderstands me completely.

Something that completely breaks my heart, and makes leaving him here alone and without me even harder.

"You're going to make me chase you for it?" I ask him playfully, because no matter how much he wants me to, I won't be able to leave him at all if I don't keep this moment light.

"What?" he asks, again not understanding. "You told me to move so you could come down... "

"I absolutely did not."

"Well, not in those exact words, but–"

"_But_ not in any. Because I wasn't telling you to do anything. I was expressing my desire to do something, and _asking _you if I could."

His brows scrunch together in confusion, and my legs waver again... and my heart breaks a little more...

Because, little thing or not, our communication has always been a big. And a clear.

We never didn't _get _each other.

Well, until...

"I was asking you if I could come down–to _you_–and give you a kiss," I tell him, pushing those painful realizations away. "Before I go. And in no way did that mean for you to move away from me."

"Oh," he says, and gives me an adorable _I'm an idiot_ smile. And then wheels himself back to me, perhaps now needing 'playful' just as much as I do. "Well, I've certainly never denied you any request to come _down _to me... or for... or on... or go, rather... and sure as hell never made you chase me for it... "

"No, you definitely never did... " I laugh, because my husband is NOT an idiot...

"So, _get_," he tells me. In that way he used to.

And that way _I'd _never deny him doing.

Or myself.

Whose lips don't waver at all...

And don't ever want to break from his...

But do...

Because it's what _he _wants. "I'll see you later. Have a good day."

Because one of us should.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Edward**

I sat and stared up at our staircase because Bella had run up it.

And I wanted to chase her...

_Wanted _to... not _could_.

But even after she came down it...

Down to _me_...

And then left me _for_...

Because I know she didn't do it for herself...

Because nothing she does anymore is...

I still can't move from this spot. The one down below.

And can't stop staring at the ones I can't get to. Up above me. Where, no matter what she says... Bella will always be.

I told her she didn't have to level herself with me that day in our kitchen...

But if she'd never done that...

Leveled herself...

Lowered...

I wouldn't have her now.

Her love. Her devotion. Her _life_...

That she lives for me.

To make mine everything she can.

Everything she _is_.

Good. Better. Perfect...

Everything that's right in front of me.

But out of my reach.

Because I made it that way.

And her.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"Come in!" I yell to the familiar knock at our front door, instead of moving to let it.

"What are you doing?" Emmett asks me once he's through it, and I've found my way through absolutely nothing. Or past. Or out of this spot.

"Nothing."

"Do you need something from up there?" he asks now, following my steady stare.

"No."

"Do you need to _go _up there?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's go," he says, and starts towards me.

But I wave him off, because I don't want his help... "I need to _go_, Emmett, not be _taken_."

He stops his forward progress and looks at me, then back to the mountain I can't climb. "Havin a bad day, buddy?"

"They're all bad days, Em."

"They could be worse... you could end them alone, instead of with that wonderful wife of yours."

"That's true, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"I'd rather _I _ended than anything without her. Is that more of the response you expected from me?"

"I didn't expect anything from you, but to not come here and find my best friend letting some bullshit beat him. Or blinding him to what he still has even if he hasn't figured out yet how to kick its ass."

"Well–"

"Well, nothing. Is sitting down here staring at those stairs going to get you up them?"

"No. I'd have been at the top hours ago if it could."

"Then move."

"Don't you think I want to?! That I would if I could?!"

"Yeah, I do. So, why aren't you?"

"What?"

"You may not be able to get up those stairs, Edward–_today_–but you don't have to sit at the bottom of them like you're stuck there. You _can _move."

"And where do you suggest I go?"

"Anywhere."

"Because I have so many options?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, exactly because you do."

"Says the man who actually _can _go anywhere."

"Yep. And the one who can take you with me."

"Don't come near me, Emmett," I warn, because he is. Getting nearer. Way too fucking near. "I'm not fucking around with you!"

"Good," he tells me, and pulls me from my chair and throws me over his shoulder like I'm some kind of fucking rag doll. "Because I'm not fucking around with you, either. And not letting you sit here anymore letting anything else fuck with you. Or you with yourself."

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"Feel better now?"

_How could I not? Look at her... _"Yeah, Em, thanks. How bout you?"

"Edward, that wedgie was the most action I've had in months. I should buy you flowers or something."

"Well, my options at defense were limited... " I laugh, "and I figured old school schoolyard was as good a choice as any."

"So did I," he says, because that's exactly where he brought me. To Bella's schoolyard, at the exact time she's outside in it with her kids.

I don't know if he knew she would be, or if he just thought bringing me closer to her would help me, but I'm grateful for his insight either way. And his friendship, that maybe I haven't appreciated enough over the years.

"I meant it, thanks for this. And for you, you big, overgrown pain in my ass."

"You can feel pain in your ass?"

"_Ouch_. Boy, you're full of the good stuff today, aren't you?"

"I am. So, are you going to talk to her or just stalk her?"

"Is it really considered stalking if the her is your wife?"

"I don't know... We could call Charlie and ask him?"

"We don't need to. He'd say no."

"Only because she's _your _wife. And you're _his _boy."

"His and _hers_," I correct, and smile at the scene playing out in front of us a few feet away.

A little boy has found a worm somewhere in the yard, and instead of tormenting some cute little pigtailed girl with it, he's wiggling it proudly up before Bella...

Who, even more proudly, is being protected from the little wormboy by another, who's shielding her as if her very life is in danger.

"Good little man," I whisper to her unhearing protector, even though Bella would never bat an eye at a worm.

And isn't. And _is _smiling at the battle over her. For her, and her attention.

Which, unfortunately for both of them, I already won.

And do...

Again...

Because she looks up suddenly, and sees me watching her, and then can't seem to see anything else.

Or hear...

Because the bell that even I can hear, even from this distance, seems silent to her ears.

And I can't help but smile at that...

And feel proud...

But I _can _help her. And do, by pointing to my own, and then at her with a _You're precious_ smile. Which makes her, and then blow me a kiss before she rushes inside with her kids.

The biggest reason I made her come back here.

Because she loves them.

And because as long as she loves me, they may be the only ones she ever has to.

"Let's go."

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

I'm back at the bottom of our staircase the moment Emmett leaves me alone. Bella isn't home yet, and you could hear a pin drop in this house.

Or _maybe _you could... if the sound of my regretful breathing wasn't thundering through it and bouncing and echoing off the walls.

The walls that are many. Because this house is huge.

Much too much so for two people. And certainly for one.

Because when I chose this house...

And brought my new bride to it...

Carried her over the threshold and into it...

I thought someday it would be full.

Of laughter, and noise, and beautiful, happy little feet.

Beautiful, happy little feet I would make...

Because Bella let me make her mine.

And someday she'd give me _ours_.

A someday that I know now may never come.

Because we weren't in a hurry. We thought we had time. All of the time in the world...

And wanted to spend as much of it as we could together. Alone. Just the two of us.

Loving and living and growing up just a little more...

Before we watched our children. And taught them. And...

Children we may not have now.

Because we can't.

Because _I _can't...

And can't watch Bella teach them anything. Because I can't give her.

I don't regret what I did...

When I bought my bride this house...

It's not what echoes around me. Bounces off the walls of it and my heart...

I regret the can't. That that word has become a part of our lives. And may keep them quiet.

And this house.

And these stairs I stare at...

That should have beautiful, happy little feet running up and down them.

But that won't...

Because I can't hear mine.

And because Bella can't.

Leading the way for her or carrying her through it...

Because they don't make any noise.

To anyone's ears but my own.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"How was your day?" Bella asks me the moment her _Hello _kiss leaves my lips.

"It was okay," I tell her. "Some parts were better than others. How was yours?"

"Fine... until I saw you."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, because that was the best part of mine."

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Edward. I just... well, I didn't get to talk to you. Or ask you what you needed. And then that's all I could think about for the rest of it... that there must have been something you did, and that you weren't getting it and–"

"I just needed to see you, Bella. That's all."

"It really is? Or was?"

"Yes. And I got to, so–"

"So, that's why you didn't let me know you were there?"

"Yes. And because I didn't want you to catch me spying on my competition."

"Aah... so, should I pretend I didn't see you, then?"

"No... because I liked how you looked when you did."

"Oh? How did I look?"

"Like I didn't have any."

"Well, of course I looked like that... you don't. And you never will."

"Never's a long time, sweetheart."

"You think so? Because I don't. I don't think it's long at all... and certainly not long enough... if that's how long you'll have me all to yourself."

_No, Bella..._

_But I wanted to _share _you._

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"What are you doing, Bella?"

I've been laying here awake for the last hour...

An hour that I thought my wife was asleep.

Because in it she never made a sound. Or moved a muscle.

But what she's doing now tells me I was wrong.

Because she just climbed on top of me.

Straddled me.

And is looking down at with wide awake eyes. "I'm going to give you a massage. Because you can't sleep. And I want to help you."

"You don't have to do that," I tell her. "You have to get up early, and–"

"Since when does my husband care about how much sleep I get? Hmm? Or don't?"

"Since now, I guess."

"Well, I'm tough. And incredibly resilient... which you very well know... and I can function on very little, so let me. And let yourself relax. And me help you."

"Okay," I tell her. Because I don't want to deny her anything more than I already have.

And because her hands already feel like heaven.

And looking up at her is like looking up _at_.

Only one that I can hold in my hands, instead of just wonder if I'll ever get to it.

And one that I can feel the wonder of...

_In _my hands and in hers.

Because mine _do _hold her... her legs around me. Keeping me still. And safe between them. And beneath her...

And hers... that move... keeping me still and making me soar all at once.

The way they always have.

Whether this way or another.

Like her mouth...

That joins them.

Follows their path over me...

And sometimes leads it.

With sweet, loving kisses.

That I don't think will stop where I can feel them. Because, like her, they keep going. Keep moving. Down me, and to. As she inches herself down my stomach... and over... "Bella..."

I feel her.

I...

Feel...

"Bella!"

And keeps going. Moving down.

Making me wonder if I'm imagining it... this thing I feel... this everything...

That I never thought I would again. And never thought she would.

But then I know I'm not. Because I see it. Because she's on my legs now... and inching my boxers down them.

And then they're off...

My boxers and her. And she's moving them...

My legs...

And moving herself between them. Instead of where I desperately want her.

"Bella, please... "

"You don't have to say please, Edward... that's your game, not mine... and I don't need to hear it... "

"Come back up here, Bella... get... up there... I'm begging you... "

_What is she doing? I can finally give her something... something I need to give her... something I want her to have..._

_Why won't she take it?_

_Why won't she... fuuuuuuuuuuuck! _"Bella... baby... Don't waste it... I–"

"I would never," she tells me, pulling me from her heavenly mouth only long enough to.

And then pulling me back into it. The part of me I thought was dead. Like the others. Broken.

And like my heart that isn't the first, but that she is. Breaking. Crushing. Because she won't crush herself to me.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how long it will last... please...

"Or how long it could be before–"

"Well, we have forever... " she tells me now, her hand moving slowly up and down the place her mouth just left again. So she could. For me. And give me something for _only_. "And you were watching me today... because you needed to. Needed to see me... another game of yours... that you love... so _watch _me. And _see_. And _feel_."

_Fuck..._

_I can FEEL._

_But... _"But w-what about y-you?" _God, I missed this... watching her... seeing her... feeling her... and myself... HERS... _"Bella... what a-b-bout–" _Aaaaaaahhhhh..._

And seeing NONE of me at all.

And all of how much she loves me.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

Bella really is asleep this time.

And I was...

But I'm not anymore.

I'm awake.

Wide awake.

And staring again. But down, not up this time.

At Bella's face where it lies against my chest. Her slightly parted lips. That were parted wider when she was awake. And that were full...

Like she is, I suppose.

Now.

Even as she sleeps.

Peacefully.

Contentedly.

And selflessly.

Because she's still wearing what she climbed into our bed in.

It's still against her skin.

And against mine. Only.

Because I wear nothing else.

But it and her.

And her desire to give me everything.

And tell me she already has.

As long as she has me.

And then I look past her...

Lower...

To what she had and didn't.

Took and wouldn't.

And pray...

That she doesn't ever regret not.

And that I don't regret not ordering her to.

For both of us.

And the us we may never get to be.


	16. Chapter 16: Irrational

**Chapter Sixteen: Irrational**

**Bella**

I only wanted him to know how much I loved him...

Know how worshiped he still was...

And could be...

And would be...

In every way, if only I had the chance to show him in.

And how much he _was_... the first chance I did...

When he told me not to waste it.

_Waste_...

I couldn't believe he said that word. That way. My Edward would never...

But he did.

And I know he meant it sweetly. Selflessly...

But so did I when I didn't listen to it. And them. His words. That were a plea, not an order.

Though I suppose _were_, too...

But an order I didn't take or obey. And a plea that maybe I didn't hear clear enough. Because I was trying to make something else clear to him.

I really only wanted him to know...

See...

Feel...

Never considering that he'd feel something else. And then be consumed by it when he couldn't feel it again.

Or hasn't yet, at least. No matter what he does. Or I do.

Because he _tells _me to. "Put it in your mouth."

_I don't want to.._.

Something I never thought or felt before...

And I want to tell him. Tell him no...

Something I've never done...

Not in our bed, anyway... or anywhere else _this _way...

But something I still don't. _Won't_. Because he needs me to listen to him. Needs me to do what he says. Needs to see that I am. And will.

Needs me to try...

To make him... "Suck harder, Bella!"

_Harder_. Hard enough. Hard at all...

Something he still isn't. No matter how hard I try. Or have tried every night since he was.

Because it's what he wanted.

Because he wants–needs–me to take what I wouldn't on that one.

He needs to give it to me. To be able to...

And be able to make me take it.

This time.

And take his pain away.

The pain I never meant to cause him...

But did.

"FUCK!"

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Edward**

It happened once, why won't it happen again?!

I've tried and I've tried and I've tried...

And made her...

My cock is in her mouth, for fucks sake! What more does it want?! What more does it fucking need to get hard?! And win the ultimate fucking prize?!

"FUCK!"

She looks up at me when I pound my fists on the bed but she doesn't stop. Doesn't say anything or do anything that I didn't tell her to do...

Doesn't do anything but keep doing what I did...

Suck on my still-limp cock in her mouth...

And try to make it not.

Something I told myself I wouldn't make her do again. Swore to myself after the last two times I did and then did that I wouldn't.

Something else I failed at.

Which is making her. Again.

Which should be impossible...

FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE!

But isn't. Because I am. Even though she won't say it. Or anything...

Because she's _still _trying to make it not true.

Because it's what I told her to do.

And what I still can't tell her to stop doing.

Not yet...

Not as long as she's still willing to not.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"Are you tired?"

"Not really. Not yet."

"Okay. Do you–"

"But you are, so go to bed, sweetheart."

"I'm okay, I can stay up a little while longer."

_I'm letting you off the hook tonight, Bella, so go... jump... and swim away... as fast as you can..._

"Are you hungry at all? Do you want a late night snack? I could–"

_I haven't done anything to need late night replenishing..._ "No."

"Okay. How about–"

"You don't have to stay up and entertain me, Bella,"_ Here or in any other room...though what's been happening in ours has been anything but entertaining to either of us..._ "You can go to bed."

"I know... but I don't mind keeping you company, if–"

"Do I have to order you to go?"

"No... not if it's what you want."

_It's not what I want. It's not at all... but _"Goodnight, Bella."

She gives me a small smile, and an even smaller nod of her head, and then a kiss. To my cheek. With her own, though whispered, "Goodnight."

And leaves me.

To suffer in silence.

Like I know I've just ensured that she'll do.

Because she'll never want off of my hook.

No matter how much I make _her_.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

I stayed out there as long as I could. In our living room...

And away from our bed.

Because I didn't want to drag myself into it until sleep had dragged her kicking and screaming into _it_.

Because I didn't trust myself not to drag her back into my Hell if she was awake.

The sight and vulnerable soundless sound of Bella asleep should have been enough...

More than enough...

To quell my irrational new obsession...

And I was sure it would be.

Until I _did _drag myself into our bed beside her.

And saw her sleeping mouth curve into a smile.

At the mere existence of me close to her, whether she was conscious or not.

She could only feel me...

And it was enough for her.

And enough to make me crazy. And more irrational than I was on all the nights before.

Because it was enough for her that she could feel me...

But not enough for me that she _couldn't_.

And wouldn't when she could have.

And I was going to make her if it killed me. And even if I had to wake her up to. Which I do now...

When I pull her limp body on top of mine. Kiss her limp mouth until it isn't anymore. And until her eyes drift open...

And then closed again. In a different way than they were before.

And grip her... hard...

The way I force her hand into my pajama pants to grip me. And to make me.

Because I need her to.

I need her to try. Again.

Because I need her to _feel _me.

Her husband...

The only man she ever has. The only one she ever let show her what _she _could. And made her love it...

Before I showed her that she couldn't anymore. And made her love less. Less than less. _Nothing_.

A way I can't bear for her to live. Forever or even for a day. Another.

I CAN'T bear it. For the mere existence of me close to her to be enough for her.

It isn't right. Isn't fair. She's given me everything...

And all I've done is take. And then even more away from her. Until she was so selfless that she wouldn't even take something back when she had the chance.

Or let me give.

The something I give her now in that way she did take. So _she _could give.

The something she lets me...

Because when I pull her hand away and push the rest of her down to replace it, she doesn't resist.

She lets me push. And pulls the softness I can't feel over my hips and the softness she can into her mouth. Again. To try to make it not.

Something she never had to try to do before...

A look from her–or at her–was all it ever took...

Then...

Before the then that came after...

And this painful now...

When she's once again giving everything and getting nothing in return...

But my mere existence close to her.

That isn't enough.

For me.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"What's up? And why do you look like shit?"

"Thanks, I will come in." Jasper drops the 12 pack he was carrying into my lap and gives me a rolling shove out of the way, closing the front door behind him. "And you might want to look in a mirror, pal."

"Nah," I tell him, and transfer the cold beer to the coffee table. "Is it even noon yet?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not really," I say, and pull two out, handing him one and gesturing to the couch. "Not to me, at least. Have a seat."

He does, and downs his first beer in about 15 seconds, and then grabs another.

"Are we celebrating something?" I ask him, as he's about halfway through the second.

"Yeah, my divorce."

"Your what?" _Don't tell me that bitch left him just because we didn't make the playoffs... well... they..._

"My divorce. The one I filed for this morning."

"_You_ filed for?"

"Yeah. _I _filed for."

"What happened?"

"She got pregnant."

"And? You've been waiting years for that... "

"Yeah, I have."

"So, what–shit. The baby isn't yours? Was she fucking around?"

"No, the baby was mine."

I wait for more, but he doesn't give it, instead finishing off his second beer and reaching for a third.

And while he attacks it, what he did give hits me. "_Was _yours?"

"Yeah, _was _mine."

"What happened, Jazz? Did she miscarry?"

"No."

"No? Well, then what–" I stop because his face says it all. And how much of a bitch she really is.

"I didn't even know... until after. Until it was too late to... She didn't even tell me! I was a father and didn't... She fucking killed our child! My son... or daughter... because she didn't want to give up her carefree lifestyle! Or her fucking waistline! What kind of woman does that, Edward?! What kind of wife?!"

"I'm sorry... " I say, because he doesn't need to hear the answers to his questions. He already knows them. The hard, painful truth of them. And of the truth that he loved her in spite of what she was. Or, to be fair to him, what she became after he did.

She wasn't an epic bitch when he met her. Or didn't let him see that side of her then...

She was feisty and fiery... but in a way that only pulled him deeper in. The bitch came later. After it was too late. Like now.

"I've put up with a lot of shit, Edward. From her. But this... what she did this time... what she took away from me...

"It was too much. Too. Fucking. Much. And I'll never, ever forgive her for it. For the rest of my life, I won't."

_I wouldn't either, buddy..._

But I wouldn't have to not. Because my wife would never do such a thing. Be capable of it. Destroying a life... and others in the process...

The life and heart of the man she loved...

My wife would never do it.

Take _anything _from me.

Even though it's what I've done to her.

_Did_...

Without giving her a chance to stop me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

Edward is at the bottom of our stairs again when I come home from work. Just staring up at them...

As if looking for something that isn't there.

I know he worked with Tyler today...

And wonder now if that didn't go so well. But I won't ask him if it did or it didn't. I won't ask him to share that with me. He has to choose it.

And I don't know exactly what I _should _ask him... or not... but then I notice something in our living room that makes my choice easy. "Did you and Tyler have some fun today? Of the liquid variety?"

He doesn't respond to my hello kiss, but does to my question. "No, Jasper stopped by for a while right after he left. And _he _just left a few minutes ago. I was just getting ready to clean it all up."

"You don't have to, I'll get it." I put my bag down and start collecting the empty bottles from the table. "I haven't seen Jasper in a while, he's good, I hope?"

"He's getting a divorce."

I'm shocked, but I can't really say that I'm sorry. I never liked Maria, and always thought he deserved better than the kind of woman she was. Someone sweeter... more affectionate and loving... less _hard _and shallow.

"Hmmm... and is this good news or bad?" I say instead.

"Good, in the end, but for a bad reason. She was finally going to make him a father, but decided not to without even telling him he had been."

"She... " I can't even say the words. I think I'm going to be sick.

"Ripped his heart out. And his child right out of her heart_less_ body."

"That's... " Again, I can't finish my thought. Because it's unthinkable.

"Selfish is what it is. To say the least."

I nod wordlessly, because the sudden weight on my chest keeps them in. But not only for the pain I feel for Jasper.

There's something else crushing me. Something in Edward's eyes as they stare at me.

And for the first time ever...

Truly scare me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Edward**

Whenever I wasn't out on the road–and before one took my life away from me–my morning routine was often to watch Bella move through hers.

And just as often try to _disrupt _it.

She couldn't shower alone...

If I was home, I was in it with her. Wanted or not.

Not that she ever didn't want me...

But some days when I'd step into it, she'd shake her head–and her finger–at me and say "I do _not _have time today, Mr. Cullen. OUT!"

To which I'd laugh. And then prove her wrong. While she let me. And make the rest of her shake...

And after...

I'd watch her get ready. Get dressed. Dry her hair... though sometimes I did it for her while she put her makeup on, depending on how late I'd made her...

But if she was doing it, or anything, I was watching her.

Like I am now. While she sits on the edge of the bathtub and shaves her legs. Something else I've done for her, because I thought doing it, and her letting me, was sexy.

"I owe you a razor," she informs me, when she feels my presence. "Or some new blades, anyway. I forgot to get new ones for mine, and I nicked myself with the first sweep of the old. And you... well, you haven't been using yours, it seems, so I helped myself."

"What's mine is yours, Bella." _Help yourself to anything you can find that works..._ "And you sure as hell don't owe me anything."

"Well, thank you. And whether you want to use yours or not, I _will _come home with new for you today."

"Is that your sweet way of telling me I _need _to?"

She studies my face, that, as she mentioned, I haven't shaved for days, paying particular attention to my jawline, that disappears more with each day of my laziness, and shakes her head. "No. Not if you don't want to."

"What about what you want?" I ask her, because she won't ask herself.

"I just want you... " she answers, because she knows that one as automatically as she knows how to breathe. And because she never hasn't since I proved to her I was someone she could let herself. "Whatever beautiful way you come. Or let me have you."

_Let her have me_...

_Now, that's funny..._

So funny that I wheel myself–without another word–back out of the bathroom where I can't see her anymore. Or watch her.

Because I couldn't stand what I saw this time.

What she _let _me see.

And have.

And what I know I don't deserve to anymore.

**...**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Bella**

"I want you to go back to our bedroom."

"I'm _in _our bedroom."

"The real one, Bella. The one upstairs."

"If you don't like this one, Edward, or if it doesn't feel _real _to you, then tell me why you don't, and why it doesn't, and I'll change it."

"Go. Back. To. Our. Bedroom."

"I'm. _In_. It."

"Bella–"

"And I'm staying."

"Against my wishes?"

_No, Edward... _"No. For your others. Your _real _ones." _The ones that never scared me._

**...**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Edward is back to pushing again.

And back to not. And not touching me at all. Or asking, or telling, me to touch him.

He lays rigid in our bed every night. Close to me but not.

Because he's far away.

And pulling himself more and more, farther and farther, the more I don't let him push me.

It's hard. For me...

And getting harder everyday. Because he's never wanted anything but to be close to me. As close as he could get. As close as I'd let him.

No matter what games we played...

Roles we took...

Immersed ourselves in...

_I _always held the power. Ultimately. And knew I did.

And _chose _to give it back.

Relinquish it.

To him.

My husband.

The man who loved me beyond words or games or possibility. Rationality. And who would never stop.

I had no doubts about that. Not a single one. And I don't now...

But that doesn't make it easy.

Or soften the blow of his pounding.

Which is what his rigid stillness feels like.

On my heart.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Feel like getting out of the house?" _Because I think spending so much time in it is hurting you. And us... _"I was thinking we could–"

"No. But you can. _Go_, if you do."

"I don't. Unless it's as _we_."

"You should get used to doing things by yourself, Bella. And for... if we is what you still want to be."

"We is what I'll always want to be, Edward. And there's no self in that."

He looks at me... his eyes soft for just a second... before they turn hard. "At least you're finally willing to admit it."

And then he rolls away from me.

Again.

With painful, _pounding_, ease.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I miss my wife.

She's right next to me and I miss her.

The way she used to smile at me...

Whether from across the room, or right beside me. Under me, or above. For every reason and none at all.

I miss the way she touched me, or I her. The way she–or I–couldn't not, if we were close enough to.

Simple strokes of fingertips...flutters of lips... the brush of an arm, or leg, against the other's.

Unspoken_ I love you_s, and _I'm glad you're here with me_s. And _You're mine_s. All of which were said often enough but could never be, screamed or whispered, in the dark or blinding light.

I miss the talks we used to have, about the hours or days we spent apart. The other things we loved, shared our minds and hearts and bodies with.

And I miss being able to. Share myself. With her or... it. That thing I loved second only to.

I miss the grass under my feet. Or the air if they left it.

I miss the feel of leather... in my hand or around it.

And wood... gripped tight and swung hard in it.

I miss tired, aching muscles. That were never _too _of either. For me...

Because I was in love with it all.

Almost as much as I was with this woman beside me but not.

Who made them even more tired... ache even more... then... when I could let her.

Like she does now to my heart... because I'm not. Can't...

And because she's far away. Trying, I know, to figure out how to get closer.

To me...

The man who's trying to figure out how not to let her again.

For her.

Because I love her more than I miss her.

Or anything...

Most of all, myself.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I found Edward watching game tapes when I came home today. Watching, rewinding, and watching again...

Himself.

Doing what he loved.

And took pride in.

And what he excelled at. _Besides _being my husband...

Something he also used to take pride in...

Before he stopped letting himself.

He barely even acknowledged my presence when I came in. And he didn't consciously...

Didn't look up, didn't speak, and didn't smile.

The only thing that told me he even knew I was there was the way his shoulders stiffened and his jaw twitched.

A much different greeting than any he ever gave me.

And than the one I gave him, in spite of it. "Hello, gorgeous," I said, and kissed him sweetly on the cheek, letting my fingers graze the back of his neck as I moved past him to put my things away.

All of which were met with the same stiff silence.

And not because he was watching himself excel on the screen in front of him. Not for that reason at all.

I wish it were, instead of for the one it is.

The one that tells me he's fighting for something.

Something that doesn't include me...

But is in every way _for_.

And in no way for himself.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I hate the night. Even more than the days that precede it every.

Because nights are hard. Harder...

Because Bella's here for all of them.

Every hour, every minute, every second of the darkness...

She's right here. Wanting–needing–me to fail with my efforts. Lose my fight.

The one with my heart...

That I don't know how I could ever win, but will still try to anyway.

Because I love her enough.

I love her that much.

And so much that I can't keep hers.

I have to give it back to her.

Keep fighting until she takes it.

And herself away from me.

Because she deserves to be part of a better we than I can offer her now. Or give. Or let her have.

I can't be selfish anymore.

And can't let her let me, no matter how much and how hard she tries to tell me I'm not. Or that she wants me anyway. And any way I come.

I want her to want more than that. More than this.

And have it. Have _everything_.

Even if it means she can't have me.

And that I'll have nothing.

Which is exactly what I'll be if I win.

And lose the best thing I ever did.


	17. Chapter 17: Hovering

***Tissue warning* For some. Maybe.**

**Chapter Seventeen: Hovering**

**Edward**

"Go upstairs, Bella."

"Again with that? No."

"Again with _that_?"

"What? _No_? YES, Edward. Again with it. So, save your breath."

"I'd love to. And could if you'd listen to me."

"And I'd listen to you if you said anything else to me."

"I want you to listen to me now."

"I want you to say something else now."

_I know you do... but I can't. _And can't fight anymore today. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward... I love you."

_I know, Bella... God, do I know..._

_Because I love you, too..._

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

"Why aren't you at the school?" Seeing Bella in our kitchen long after I thought she'd left the house takes me off guard.

I'd purposely gotten out of bed late–pretending to still be asleep before I did–so I wouldn't have to face her until later. Until the hours of this day had had their chance to strengthen my resolve to on her future ones not face her at all.

"Good morning," she tells me, before answering my question with a _You're a silly boy_ smile, "_Saturday_ morning."

Shit.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

_You, Bella... _

But I can't tell her that. And won't, no matter how much I do or want to.

"I guess I lost track of the days... " Or anything else she wants to hear. "But I'm not helpless. I can get my own breakfast."

She moves silently aside so that I can move myself about...

But the hurt she leaves in my way is anything but quiet. It's like a fallen tree in my path. One that I _saw _and _heard _fall. Crash at my unmoving feet.

One that I feel the hard and heavy vibration of no matter what else I can't.

But that I can't let beat me.

Because this fight isn't for me.

So I trudge forward. Climb over it with heavy limbs and a heavier heart. Drag myself–the feeling parts and the not–to a clearer, though darker, path. The one I won't lose sight of, no matter what else I see before me. What comforts and softness and...

"And I can do it without you watching me... waiting for me to drop something or not be able to reach something... or whatever the hell it is that you're doing it for." _I'm sorry, Bella..._

"The only thing I was waiting for was to have breakfast with you."

_I know that... _"Well, next time don't."

She looks at me... a thousand different emotions playing on her face... and probably just as many responses playing on her tongue...

But a soft "Okay" is all I hear. And then she breaks a banana from the bunch on the counter and picks up her glass of juice and walks out of our kitchen.

Leaving me with my breakfast of champions... the new, unopened box of Wheaties that, not shockingly, no longer has my face–or any other part of me– on the front of...

That I force myself to choke down. With no sugar. No sweetness of any kind.

Because, just like this box cover...

The days of my being worthy of that...

Are over.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Saturdays are the worst days of the week. The weeks. Now...

And for the other kind. The _weak_. Something I never thought I'd call myself or see myself as...

But do. Because things change.

Like the days of the week...

Mondays change to Tuesdays.

Tuesdays to Wednesdays.

Wednesdays to Thursdays.

Thursdays to Fridays.

And Fridays to Saturdays. My least favorite of them all. Because they're long. And I don't spend them alone. And won't on what follows them...

Sundays, which are the same. Except for one difference: I don't have to spend Sundays dreading their arrival. Their repeat performance of Saturday, the day, like this one, on which I do.

Two days with Bella...

Mornings, afternoons, and nights...

With her but not.

Close to her but far away.

And trying with all that I am to get farther. And to push her. Until she's far enough...

That every day–every breath–feels like Saturday to me.

And I lose track...

Of them all.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"When's the last time you went out and did something with a friend? Or even talked to one?"

"I talk to my friends everyday."

"I'm not talking about your colleagues, Bella."

"My colleagues are my friends, Edward."

"Yes, but not your only. And not the ones I'm asking you about."

"It's been awhile, I guess."

"Why?"

"Because we're all busy."

"You mean because you are. Doing absolutely nothing."

"There's not a speck of dirt or dust in this house. And not so much as a single towel or t-shirt waiting to be washed... "

"You know that's not at all what I'm talking about."

"Is there something specific that you are? Something you'd like me to do?"

"Yes."

"Then say the word... "

_Fix me. _"Call someone... do something... go somewhere... anything... just, for the love of God, STOP HOVERING. You're suffocating me."

"I don't mean to do that... "

_You're not. I don't mean it._ "Well, you are. And I can't stand it."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry... " _You didn't do anything wrong..._ "... just _stop_." _So that I can._

She nods her beautiful head...

A simple action, but one that I've made hard for her. Like the watching of it is for me...

But not as hard as it is watching her waste her life.

Her life that's ahead of her, not behind.

Where she leaves me...

To stop hovering like I told her to.

When I lied.

And suffocated us both.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I know what he's doing...

I never don't.

I just don't know quite how to fight it. When I should and when I shouldn't.

I'm trying...

Choosing my battles...

And saving my strength for the big ones...

Because I know they're coming.

Because when Edward wants something, he's ferocious.

Not that this thing he's doing is what he wants...

I know it isn't.

But I know it's what he thinks–has delusionally decided–is what he needs to do. For _me_.

Me.

The person he loves more than himself.

Something I never doubted once I knew it. And still don't.

But something that's changed. Grown dangerous. And frightening.

Because he's Edward Cullen. _My _Edward Cullen. And I know what that means. What he–_him_–is.

Inside and out.

And know that the out that he sees himself as now is changing the in.

For the worse. Which he thinks is the better. For me.

With all of his confused, beautiful heart he thinks it.

Because my Edward would never do anything for me that he believed wasn't.

He'd never hurt me...

_Ever_...

I _know _that.

Even though he is...

And himself while he does...

With every cold word.

And look. And the ones that aren't that he tries not to let me see.

But that I do.

Because I _am _always hovering. And watching him.

Because I love him, I am.

And will keep...

Because I can't not.

And will never.

No matter how cold or hard it gets. Or he does...

I won't.

And won't give up.

Trying to be stronger than he is.

Something I've never been–couldn't possibly have–or ever wanted to be...

Until he decided worse was better for me.

And better was too good for him.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

Bella was quiet for the rest of the day. And practically invisible.

Because those things were what I told her to be. When I tried to make her believe they were what I wanted from her.

Because I know how hard she's trying not to. Believe...

Bella knows I love her. And knows how much–as much as she could–I do. And that makes what I'm trying to do for her now harder. For both of us.

Harder for me–not that that's possible–because she won't be easy to convince that I could anything but. I spent every moment I ever spent with her trying to make her know how much I did. And I succeeded...

She _knew_.

That she was adored. Treasured. Cherished. _Worshiped_.

Loved beyond reason or rationality or shame. And would be for as long as she or I lived.

And her knowing made me love her even more.

Because it told me how much she believed in me. And in what I was capable of.

Which will make this even harder for her.

Because she knows how hard I'll fight. To make her not. And not believe anymore. Not trust or want or love me.

I know I can't make her forget the old me... or the old us...

But I believe, if I try hard enough, that I can make her not want the new.

If I make us less.

And make him ugly enough. And cold enough. And unrecognizable enough...

She'll stop fighting for him. The one she knew. And accept that the new is all I am now. And not someone she can love anymore.

And that the man she did... the man who loved her even more than she did... is gone. And never coming back.

That, even if he didn't want to... didn't choose it... he left her. Broke all of his promises. And her heart. Before, hopefully, her spirit.

_Please, Bella..._

_Give up on me before that happens. Hate me for failing you. And love yourself enough to let someone else not._

The thought of her with someone else...

Anyone but me...

Letting them love her...

Touch her...

_Earn _her...

It threatens to derail my plans.

But when she climbs into bed beside me...

Wearing her love for me like a suit of selfless armor...

I know I have to find a way to bear the pain of it.

And make her suffer another so she'll never have to again. "Are you going to make me say it?"

"Say what?"

"How much I enjoyed today."

"Enjoyed?"

"Yes, _enjoyed_. The air... and the space... "

"No. Because I'd never make you lie to me."

"I know you don't want it to be the truth, Bella, but that doesn't make it a lie."

"And _I _know you don't really want to hurt me, even though you're trying so hard to."

"I'd never try to hurt you, Bella."

"Then stop."

"Stop making me."

"Stop making me make you."

"I can't seem to make you do anything anymore. And that's why today was so good... because you finally showed me a modicum of respect."

"Finally? MODICUM? Are you kidding me?"

_I know, baby... it's the most ridiculous thing I could have said_. "Not in the least."

"If there's anything I've ever done, Edward... _excelled _at, it's showing you respect."

"Really, Bella? Is that what this is? What you're doing now? Excelling at respecting me?"

"I'm not not."

"The fact that you're here makes that incorrect."

"_Here_?"

"In this room. And this bed. And don't demean yourself by pretending you don't know that I don't want you in either."

"I'm not pretending anything. I have never–and will never, ANYTHING–with you. And I don't feel demeaned. I COULD NEVER. With you, or by, or by myself FOR you.

"I paid attention, Edward. To everything you ever said to me. Asked me for or told me you wanted... with me and from...

"And _that _is why I'm here. In this room, and this bed, and anywhere you are. And why I'm staying. No matter what you say to me. No matter what YOU pretend. Or lie about. And try to make me believe."

_You can't win this one, Bella. I can't let you. I won't give in. I love you too damn much... _"I know I created this, Bella... wanted it... reveled in it, even...

"But it's _not _what I want anymore. And I'm so sorry... I know it hurts you... it hurts me to say it to you... to have to... but you're giving me no choice. You just won't listen to me. And, no matter how much you believe you are by not... are _not _respecting me as long as you don't. Please see that. And don't make it harder."

"Harder for whom, Edward? Which one of us?"

"Both. It's not easy for me to hurt you."

"It's not easy because you love me."

"Of course I love you. I never said that I didn't."_ I could never..._

"Then grab ahold of me. Squeeze me. _Suffocate _me... and tell me I'll stay where I belong, instead of lying to me and telling me you don't want me here."

"I can't do that."

"Why? Because you couldn't do something else a couple of times? Edward... "

"That's not why, Bella."

"Maybe it's not the only reason, but it's one of them. And it's a big one. And ridiculous, just so you know. And _not _worth hurting me for. Not at all."

_No... not by itself... but maybe necessary... to hurt you _with_... _"You're right... it is a reason. A big one."

"I know, so lets–"

"Just not the way that you think it is."

"Okay, then tell me what way it is."

"I don't want to be cruel... " _I'd rather cut out my own heart with a rusty, jagged knife..._

"You can say anything to me, Edward, and I can take it, as long as it's the truth."

She's suspicious... and she's right to be... because I'm about to lie to her again...

But nothing else I'm saying is working... "Those times I couldn't do something... that we both know were more than a couple... were the only times I couldn't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they were the only times, Bella. And I think... can only... that those failures... were because of _you_. Not me."

"Me, as opposed to... ?"

"No one. I'd never do that to you. Just myself... is what I meant."

"So, let me see if I understand this... this thing you _mean_...

"Your 'failures', as you called them, were in actuality, MINE. To inspire... or elicit... your success. Is that what you mean?"

"Not in a way that's meant to hurt or insult you... "

"But _yes_?"

_No! Fuck no! You know better than that... _"Yes."

"I see."

_No you don't, sweetheart... and I'm so sorry..._

"Your intended point, I mean. But I'm not hurt or insulted by it."

"Good. I didn't want you to–"

"I'm just surprised–shocked, actually–that you'd go so far as to try to make it to me. Knowing that–if your very life depended on my doing so–I'd never believe you."

_It's not mine that does, it's yours... _"Knowing how much my life means to you made saying it even harder. But no matter how hard it was... I said it because it's the truth. I don't know what changed... or why it did... you're certainly still as beautiful as you ever were... but I just don't... "

"_Want_ me?"

_Thank you... I couldn't say it. _"No. I don't."

"Yes you do."

"Bella... "

"It wouldn't have been hard to say the words–which you didn't, by the way–if you truly felt them. And nothing for me."

"I didn't say I felt nothing for you... that's not the same thing. And could never be true. We loved each other. We planned a life... that, if hadn't gone all wrong, would have been extraordinary...

"I'll never deny that... but I can't deny this, either. It's changed, Bella. It's all changed. I... me... I'm just not the same anymore. And who or _what_ever I am now... doesn't want you the same."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"I'm sorry... but it's not."

"I don't care about failures, Edward. Yours or mine. We'll _both _have them. Because no matter how perfect we've always thought the other was... neither of us is. Or _ever _was.

"We were just happy. And blissfully, _blindly _in love. Like we still are. And is _all _that matters to me. And all that should matter to you. No matter what can or can't happen in this bed, or in this room, or what ever happened in any other.

"Our life didn't go wrong, Edward. It took a turn that we didn't expect, and haven't figured out yet quite how to deal with. But we will. Together. And we'll get back on course. And extraordinary... we'll redefine it. In every possible–and perfect–way there is to. So, stop this craziness. Stop wasting our time. And let us be happy."

"I can't make you happy anymore, Bella."

"Yes you can. If you stop thinking you can't, and let yourself. Like you always have."

"And you can't make me."

"We both know that's not true. Stop with all of that. It doesn't make you noble."

"I've never been that."

"The hell you haven't. But now, not so much, no."

"And I've never lied to you."

"I know that. Until this, that you're going to stop."

"No, Bella... I've NEVER lied to you. And am _not_ now."

"Stop. Please."

"_Go_. Please."

"You're not ready yet? To go back to blissful with me? Fine. I'll play your game, no matter how hard it is. If it's what you need right now. But remember that I'm only human. And not as strong as you are. And love you enough that you shouldn't have to play it at all. Or make me."

_It's why I have to. _"Please go upstairs. If you love me... sleep in our old bed... and leave me to mine. In peace and comfort, that I just can't find with you next to me anymore."

"That's a bit rough, Edward. Even for you."

"You know how to make me stop. You've always known."

"Yes... by telling you. Like I am now, and have been doing for the last–"

"That's not the way anymore, Bella. I've told you what is now."

"Go or suffer? That's the way? My only choice now?"

"I don't want you to suffer... but I don't want to, either. So, yes. Because you're giving _me _no other choice... I guess it is."

"You guess it– You want me here! In this room and in this bed! And anywhere else you could ever have me! And in whatever way! Stop saying that you don't! Stop making me feel like my mere existence is making you miserable or sick! It isn't! I know it isn't! And that it couldn't! You know I know that! So please stop hurting me! Stop because I love you! More than anything! Just like you love me! Please, Edward! Stop!"

I turn my back to her...

Because I can't bear to see her tears.

To know that I've caused them.

And will cause her more.

Before she gives in.

And because I won't.

And she doesn't try to pull me back.

And doesn't jump from the bed and around it to make me face her.

And sure as hell doesn't leave like I told her to.

She doesn't move at all.

Because to do that...

Would mean she'd had more than she could take.

And she hasn't.

And that scares the hell out of me.

For her...

Who may never...

From me.

**xx**

**I know things have changed here... and many, if not most or all, of you are hating him right now... and that doesn't make me happy, but it's what it is. And how you're entitled to feel, if you do. Just like those who felt the need to leave after the last chapter. That was their choice, though in my/our defense, the angst warnings were clear from the beginning this time. In this story, I mean. I pulled no punches about that. **

**And I thought I'd made something else clear... that based on reviews/pms is (baffling to me) not. And that's this: HE. LOVES. HER. I don't know how anyone couldn't know that. Seriously, I don't. And don't think I failed at that. No matter how twisted up his love for her is right now... (I know he's being stupid!) it's there. And it's big. So big he doesn't know what to do with it. Or anything, so much of which now he can't control... **

**So, I guess what I'm trying to say is can you just please try to remember that? And that he's broken? And not evil? Or cruel? Or selfish, even though he's seemed so in recent chapters? For Bella (who I think most of you like), if not for him or me? Please? I wouldn't ask if it didn't break my heart that you don't. Or seem to not.**

**And now, since I'm often fail at review replies, to answer a question that I'm asked a lot... I don't know how many chapters this will be. While I know the story to the end, I don't have it all written. You wouldn't have to wait so long for updates if I did. And that's the only answer I have. To that. **

**As for the 'romance' tag that I put on this... I still (though many of you don't, I know) think it belongs. And I'm going to leave it there. And this here for you to figure out what means.**

**And one last thing... in reference to something I didn't leave anywhere... if anyone doesn't know, the first chapter of the Come Closer sequel is posted. It's called Right There. (story, not chapter) And is the only thing, besides my OF, Clear and Bright, that will be sharing my attention now. So, hopefully updates to this will be a little more frequent than they have been.**

**I'll shut up now. Thanks for listening. And reading. xo**


	18. Chapter 18: Whispered Words

**Chapter Eighteen: Whispered Words**

**Bella**

I used to look forward to the school year weekends. Every one felt like a never ending child's Christmas morning to me. Not because I didn't love my job and the precious little faces and minds that I spent my week with...

But because I loved my husband with that child's Christmas morning excitement. And those weekends let me show it to him. Share it with him, and myself completely. Even when it was the beginning of the school year, after I'd had an entire blissful summer to do it.

The beginnings of the school years were always the most hectic times for us. Much like the ends of them, though without those beautiful blooming reminders spring brought of blissful summers approaching.

Because the beginnings for me were the endings for Edward. Of _his _seasons. His regulars. Which weren't endings at all when he was playing on those fields of his dreams.

The Mariners didn't make it into the playoffs this year. Didn't greet October with a child's Christmas morning excitement...

But it's the first time since Edward's rookie season that they didn't. Because their Santa of sorts got benched this year. And what would a child's Christmas morning be like if Santa hadn't been able to leave his workshop while they slept and dreamed of him?

I'm not saying they're nothing without him... I'd never say that. Something it would hurt him to hear...

I'm just saying that they lost their way. That Rudolf's nose lost its glow and can't guide them anymore. And they have to find a way to light their path without it.

I smile to myself at my Christmas analogies. For multiple reasons, I smile. First, because, since the day he decided I was the person he wanted to spend all of his with, Edward made every day feel like a child's Christmas morning to me. With gifts to open nearly every...

Some big, some small. Some extravagant and over the top, and some as simple as a cupcake that looked like my favorite flower or an adorably perfect heart cut out of red construction paper and put in a box tied with a ribbon and put in my hands...

With an equally adorable plea for me to want it...

On a day that wasn't anywhere near Valentine's Day...

_Oh, Edward... I miss you._

He amazed me with the things he did. The things that told me, no matter how busy he was doing that thing I thought he loved most, and no matter how little time he had to do anything else, that that time was spent thinking of me. And ways he could show me that what I thought was wrong. And that _I _was that thing he loved most.

Of course my mind sees him as Santa–and stunningly beautifully _not_. His generosity to the little girl who'd been good and nice (though not always to him at first) puts him in those boots as if they were made for him.

And Rudolf's glowing nose... well, if you've ever seen my Edward, you know why. He lights up a room. A world of rooms... when he's happy. Or fighting to be.

Things have gotten a little dark in our rooms now...

But I don't want to think about that now... or ever...

Because I'm thinking of brighter times.

Christmas mornings...

Or any if they were near...

When Edward would walk through the house, or stand at the stove making me cream cheese scrambled eggs, or pop his head into the bathroom while I was taking a shower...

Singing Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Because it's his favorite Christmas song. And because him singing it always made me laugh. And he loved doing that... being responsible for hearing what he said was his favorite sound.

Like he did when I asked him why Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer was his favorite and he said because it reminded him of himself. I laughed so hard...

Because Rudolf's story is nothing like his. Which I told him once I stopped laughing with a shake of my head and a roll of my eyes.

But he said I was wrong about that, and that it was. That, though certainly never made fun of for anything, he did feel like an outcast when he first joined his team. His teammates did _not _want him. Because, though they didn't doubt his abilities, they knew _he _definitely didn't.

He hadn't had a chance yet to earn his superstar status in the major leagues, but they thought he saw himself with an **S **on his chest before he'd even set foot on anything but a college field. They thought he was a cocky young punk who would walk onto theirs like he owned it and expect them all to bow to him.

He knew his young public persona had created those assumptions, but who Edward was off of the baseball field wasn't who he was on it. And he had to prove that. And that, though, again, he didn't doubt his abilities, he didn't think they were something to be bowed to.

The team was struggling back then, and never looked forward to October...

But he didn't see himself as their savior who would change that like they thought he did. He wanted to change it, yes, but as a part of a _team_ who would do it _together_.

And so he worked. His ass off and their assumptions into the grounds he did it on. And got them to their first October, and himself _into _their team instead of just on it.

They, like all of Seattle, loved him. But he'd earned it. By offering up _heart _like they'd never seen before.

Like he did to me with his.

Another reason he saw himself like Rudolf. Because I had assumed things, too.

And, like with his teammates who at first didn't want him, I made him prove me wrong and to me that I did. Something he worked his ass off to do, with his beautiful heart lighting _his _way.

That, like what he did on those fields, _will _go down in history.

Because my Edward's heart...

My eyes finish my thought for me. With painful tears. The kind I fight so hard everyday to keep away.

But never as hard as on the school year weekends that I've come to dread. Because I don't look forward to them anymore. Because Edward doesn't.

Because they aren't Christmas mornings, or like at all.

And there are no presents under any tree or in my hands.

Because the only one he wants to give me now...

Is back me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

Another dreaded Saturday is upon me, but Bella's presence has barely been. She's been upstairs since I got up and told her, like on the last, not to hover.

It was a long week for both of us. And a painful. Both completely my fault...

But her fights against my hard cruelty have been soft. And small, like she looked every time I tried to push her away with it.

She hasn't given up...

Or in...

Or me my demanded way...

And left our bed to sleep in the one I told her to instead...

But her stubbornness to not has been gentle. And quiet. And still.

And respectful.

If I didn't see her next to me at night, I wouldn't know she was there once she'd wished me a good.

She doesn't move, or speak, or touch me... in any way... even though some nights she lies there awake for hours before she falls asleep...

Like I do...

Because I want her to do those things she doesn't more than anything.

Those things I told her I _didn't _want her to do.

Because _I_ can't do the things I want to, no matter how hard I fight.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"Dad? Are you going to be home in a few hours?"

"I am if you need me to be. What's going on, sweetheart? Is something wrong?"

I suddenly wish times were different, those of old, when phones had cords, so I had one to wrap around my looking-for-something-to-entwine-myself-with fingers. And heart...

But all of the wishing in the world won't give me that. Yes, I could go out and buy one of those kinds of phones–if they even make them anymore–but that won't soothe the ache I feel for what I truly want to be wrapped up in. Edward. His arms and his heart and...

"No," I finally answer my dad with my lie, because I can't tell him the truth. Because it would hurt him. And because telling him would feel to me like I wasn't still fighting for a better one. "I just wanted to do something for Edward, and was hoping I could come and go through the pictures you have from our wedding day.

"You have some that I don't have... some candid shots of that day... of us... that weren't posed for or planned... and I was hoping I could take a few. I'll have copies made if–"

"You can take anything you want. For any reason you want to or for none at all. You don't have to ask me. You only have to tell me if you really want me to be home."

He knows I lied. And that everything isn't okay. That something _is _wrong.

But he also knows that I would tell him if I needed his help. And not yet if I wanted to get through that wrong on my own if I could.

"It's not that I don't, or don't want to see you, but maybe you could leave the key somewhere so that I could get into the house? In case you weren't going to be?"

"Well, Sue and Seth are gone to her sister's for the weekend... and I was going to go out with Harry and try to catch a few..."

_Thank you, Dad..._

"So, I'll keep those plans and leave a key under the mat for you. That I want you to keep after you use it, so that you can anytime you need to."

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Bells. And I'll see you next time."

"I promise you will."

"Drive safe, sweetheart."

"I will. Because you taught me how to."_ And when not to be afraid not to_.

Be too safe... and careful... because I was afraid to trust other _drivers_...

On the roads of life. And love... that aren't always without obstacles in the middle of them.

Aftermaths of crashes.

Collapses. Of bodies and the fragile hearts they're built to protect.

And of wills...

That crumble under all of the mangled weight and then find a way out from under it only to change into something more mangled than what crumbled it in the first place.

That I won't avoid today. Won't steer safe and clear of.

Because I'm going to drive straight into it. Crush it if I have to. Until it admits it shouldn't have been put there in my way.

And ours.

Because I put nothing in his.

But a promise that I never would again.

When I let him catch me.

Stood still and waited for him to.

And hold me.

Forever.

Which is far...

FAR...

From over.

Or mangled, no matter how much he thinks he is.

Or how much he thinks he needs to get out of my way.

So that I can begin another.

That will never exist.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"I'm going to go out for a bit. I'll be gone a few hours, so is there anything you'd like or that you need before I do?" _Don't look so hopeful, Edward... you haven't won anything._ "Or bring you back when I come?" _Because I _am _coming back. To you. And our life._

I can see his mind going a mile a minute as he sits there not answering me. Not letting himself... or ask me to stay, which is all he could ever really want...

But then I see his jaw set and his eyes go cold with what he will let himself ask me. Which is for nothing at all.

Because Edward doesn't ask me questions anymore. Or for anything.

He only tells me the nothings I never wanted to hear. "No."

Since he's looking at me, with cold eyes or not, I nod my understanding of his response and smile at him. And then go out the door without another word.

And once outside of it, stand with my ear pressed against it to hear what I do want to hear. And what he never tells me anymore. Not when he thinks I can hear him, anyway. "I love you, Bella."

_I know, Edward..._

_No matter what else you say._

_Or do._

_Or don't._

Because, whether whispered I love yous he thought I couldn't hear, or screamed go aways he knew I could, I know that mouth they come from.

His mouth.

That's never done anything but worship me.

And thank me for the honor.

With words or without.

Even when he had other options.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

Bella said she'd be gone a few hours...

But it's been much more than a few since she left our house.

It's been many.

Like the hours of a school day, which today isn't for her.

Which I already know, because this is one of those days that I hate, but which I'm reminded of every time I look out the window.

Because it's dark beyond it.

Like life without her would be whether the sun was shining brightly in the sky or had fallen beneath it so the moon could take over.

Like now... when the dark of night is suffocating me. The dark of night I can't stop looking out at, because there's nothing else to in.

Because Bella isn't here.

My Bella, who's never not when it is.

My Bella, who's scaring the hell out of me right now because she isn't.

Where is she?

And why isn't she back from wherever it is?

And why didn't I ask her where that where was before she left here?

And me. To think I'd gained some ground.

Because she finally put some between us.

And why didn't she tell me on her own to tell me that I hadn't gained anything but what she wanted me to?

Why didn't she give me that?

Why didn't she give me anything?

Why didn't she try even though I pretended I didn't want it when I didn't ask her for it? Anything instead of this nothing.

That isn't nothing at all because I'm worried sick about her.

"Where the hell are you, Bella?!" I scream into the emptiness I made her leave me in.

That answers me like a punch in the gut. _You won't have the right to ask her that if she really does go._

I know that!

And that I still have it now. Where the hell is my phone?

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

It's been an hour, and though I found my phone and hold it in my hands, I have yet to call my wife.

Not because I'm any less worried, or any less scared... I'm sick to my stomach with being both.

But because I'm stubborn. And know that Bella is, too.

And smart. And that she may be trying to make me worry on purpose.

So that I'll give in. And reach out and pull her back to me.

So, because she might be... _Please, God, let that be what this is..._

I wait.

And hope that I can do it longer than she can.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Hello?"

"Where. The. Hell. Are you?"

"Hold on a minute, Edward."

"Bella!" I scream at her, but it's too late; she's already dropped the phone from her ear. And covered the mouth, apparently, because she's still talking–to someone who isn't me–but her voice is now muffled. As is the voice of the someone who gets to hear it clearly, and have her undivided attention to themselves and their own.

"Are you still there?" she asks after a moment, and I hear the slam of a car door. Hers, I can only assume, because it sounded as though it slammed right beside her. _Where I'm supposed to be._

"Where else would I be?" I ask her, instead of tell her that. "It's not like I can go anywhere."

"I didn't... I just meant..." she stammers, and then gives up. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting. Is everything alright?"

"No, Bella, everything is _not _alright."

"What's wrong?"

_What's wrong? Is she fucking serious right now? _"Where the fuck are you?! And _who _the fuck were you talking to?! Who was important enough to you to make me wait for?! Me, your husband, because you're still my wife!"

"I promise you I know that, Edward. But thank you for acknowledging it."

"Bella, if you think I'm playing games with you–"

"_Think_ you're playing games with me? I don't think that. I _know _you are. But I'm not playing any with you to try to get back at you, if that's what you think."

"Tell me where you are right now. And who you're with. And why you're anywhere with anyone!"

"Please stop yelling at me."

"Then answer my damn questions!"

"Okay– **Is everything alright? I was waiting for you. You know, to pull away before I left– ** I'm sorry. Yes, everything's fine. You can go. And thank you again for all of your help. I–"

"Help with what?" I ask, before she can say anything else to this person–this _man_–who helped her. "And who the hell is that? Where are you, Bella?"

"Really, it's okay," she says, and I know it's to him instead of me. "I'll be fine. I'll lock my doors."

**"Ma'am, please..." **I hear him respond, because she's not covering the phone like she was before. **"There's no way I'm leaving you alone out here."**

"Alone out where?" I ask her now, immobilized with dread worse than any I've ever felt. Even worse than what I felt on that day that brought us to this one. And the reality of my helpless, immobile state. "Damn it, Bella, answer me!"

"I'm sorry, Edward. I'm not trying to not, it's just hard to listen to, and answer, two people at the same time."

"Then _don't_. And just listen to, and _answer_, me."

"Okay."

"NOW."

"Okay... well, first of all, I'm on the side of the highway. My tire blew out... and–"

"What?! Oh my god, Bella, are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. I lost control for a minute, but I was able to get some semblance of it back, and pull over without anything more than a furiously beating heart and some jumbled nerves.

"And after a few minutes, I even thought I'd be able to handle it myself, and put the spare on... but I couldn't do it. The nuts or bolts or whatever the hell I was trying to loosen were just too tight for me.

"So, I called for help, and they told me it would be about a half an hour before someone could get to me... but after an hour, they still hadn't come. So I called again, and was told it would be an hour... which was going to be two, at least, since it had already been one..."

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Let me talk to the tow truck driver." _Two hours? MY WIFE had to wait TWO HOURS?_

"Well–"

"Now, Bella."

"I can't. The tow truck never showed up."

"He never–Then who is that you were talking to?"

"Just a very kind man who stopped to help me. And who's kindly still here because I'm still sitting here explaining it to you..."

"You got out of your truck for a stranger? Who isn't a police officer? Or at the least a worthless tow company driver? At night? In the dark? Alone?"

"I was already out of my–"

"Bella! Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? Your father is the Chief of Police! You know better!"

"He wasn't alone. His wife and two adorable children were in the car with him. The three of whom talked to me and kept me company while he fixed my tire. And who would all probably love to be able to go home right now... just like I would. Or at least start to, since I'm still almost an hour away. I'm so sorry..."

I know her _I'm so sorry _at the end of all of that was not for me.

And even if it was, it's the last thing I would want to hear from her now.

Because I didn't give her anything.

Didn't let her win.

Or beat me at all...

Because I didn't reach out and grab her to pull her back to me...

I kept her far away from me and made her stay there while I_ beat _her. After she'd already been.

And I hate myself for it._ I hate myself so much..._

"Okay, Bella," I tell her, though nothing is. "Can I talk to him please? For just a minute? And then to you again?"

"Sure," she says far too sweetly. "I think he'd really like that. The chance to talk to you, I mean... I know I did."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Bella's roadside savior was a fan. Of mine. Of the man I used to be.

And, just like she said, he did really like my giving him the chance to talk to me. And barely let me get my words of thanks in between all of his own.

But I managed. To thank him. For helping my wife when I couldn't. For taking care of her while I was sitting on my ass in our home doing anything but.

And he said "You're welcome" but that my thanks wasn't necessary. Because it was his duty–as a man–to do such things. Before he even knew who she was.

But that after...

It was his honor.

Because I was his son's hero. His favorite person in the world.

Which made me feel even worse than I already did. For myself and for him.

Because a child's hero should be his father.

Or hers...

A child who's grown up. Into a woman. With no man to take care of her. No man at all. But whose hero is that man. The one who isn't one. Instead of the man who is and who told her to let me try to be.

"My phone's probably going to die, Edward. I didn't have much battery left even before you called, and now–"

"Then it will, but that's the only way you'll be cut off from me."

"Okay. Whatever you say. This time."

The happiness in her soft, sweet, and compliant whisper is unmistakable, but I don't reward myself with it. Or let her reward me. Because I don't deserve it. And, even though I did deserve something else, I want her to know I didn't like. "You should have called me, Bella."

"What could you have–"

I didn't interrupt her this time. She interrupted herself. Stopped herself. From asking the question she didn't like the sound of. And that she didn't want to hear the truthful answer to. _Absolutely nothing._

"I didn't mean that, Edward. Not the way–" She stops again... undoubtedly trying to think of a way to put a different spin on what she can't.

But I don't want her to waste her time on impossible. Or be distracted by it, or anything, when her eyes should be focused on the road in front of her. "How's your dad?" I ask her. "Did you have a good day?"

"Well, he's good, I think. I didn't actually see him, he wasn't home."

I guess that explains why he hasn't shown up here yet to kick my ass... "So, you spent the day with Sue and Seth?"

"No, they weren't home, either. They went somewhere for the weekend or something."

"Did you catch up with some old friends, then?"

"No. I just spent some time by myself."

I want to ask her why she had to drive over three hours away to do that...

But I don't. Because maybe three hours away is really the best place for her.

And because, just like she warned me it might...

Her phone goes dead.

Leaving me feeling like I am.

Because she still isn't here, and I'm completely cut off from her.

Just like I wanted.

And never, ever did.

**xx**

**It's a little sooner this time, right? A smidge?**

**Well, whether it is or it isn't, I want to say something about what I know it is. What _they_ are... this chapter, their love, and their story. They're give and take. And push and pull. And sometimes they're effortless and beautiful, and sometimes they're hard and cruel. But love–and this _is_ a LOVE story–is stubborn. So, remember that. And how much these two love each other. Okay? **

**And, though I recently stopped seeing some old, I've been seeing some new faces in the last couple of weeks. And I want to say Welcome! And, like to all of you, thanks for reading! I know it isn't always easy, especially this.**

**And about the chapter title... I know there were a lot more than whispered words in this chapter... but I liked the whispered ones best. And so did Bella, or at least the ones that sounded like whispers since there was a heavy door in the way. (This is fiction, pretend she has super hearing powers)So...**

**See you soon. Bella and her super-hearing ears should be home by then...**


	19. Chapter 19: A Moment of Weakness

**A short one. Which I have my reasons for. Like Edward, I suppose...**

**Chapter Nineteen: A Moment of Weakness**

**Bella**

I knew better than to let myself get too excited about Edward's worry. Because I knew that by the time I got home it may have turned to something else.

Because, like I told him when he was still listening, I was still almost an hour away. And an hour is a long time.

Enough time to change things. Our entire lives changed in far less time than that...

Maybe if my phone hadn't have died...

If I could have kept listening...

Hearing him...

And letting him hear me...

Something I know he truly wanted to do...

_Maybe _...

But it did. Died, and disconnected us from each other.

So, though hopeful, I didn't let that hope grow too much. Too big or too strong. Strong enough to break me...

In case, after an hour, all he wanted to do again was try to.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I don't want this.

This silence. This emptiness. This Bella-less space.

This Hell.

I _don't _want it.

But I don't want her to live the rest of her life in a different. Because I'm in it, but not.

She wants me. Loves me. And wants to be the center of...

But I'm not me anymore.

I'm just a broken shell of.

I want to run to the door when I hear her coming close to it. I want to shorten her steps by replacing them with my own and taking them for her. I want to sweep her off of her feet and let mine carry her...

I want to let her love where they take her.

I want so much...

But I can't.

Because, as absolutely as she would let me and them, they just won't.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

The last hour has felt like years. After the ones before it that felt like centuries of them.

And I think I'm back in place. Putting her first. What's best for her...

Until she opens the door.

And the sight of her makes me forget to.

Because I _do _want.

Her.

And at this moment of seeing, can't remember anything else.

But that I do. And that I want her to know it. In every way that she can. And every way that I can make her.

"This was the worst day of my life, Bella."

"I'm sorry if that's my fault," she says, taking my confession but not.

"It isn't."

She looks at me, hopeful but afraid to be. Which should clear my head...

But doesn't. Because my head is nowhere to be found.

My heart is what's here. And it's her. "But you could make it better."

"Just tell me how and I will," she declares, telling me that she's not afraid of me. Or what I'll tell her. "Tell me anything and I'll do it."

"Let me feel you," is what I do. Because it's what I want and want her to do.

And she misunderstands. Drops her things at the door and rushes to me. And to her knees in front of me and between mine. Thinking the last thing I told her I wanted from her is what I selfishly want again now.

For her to try to make me.

And again...

If my head was here...

It would tell me to stop this.

But it's still not.

And not what makes me still her willing hands as they reach for my button. Or, after I drop them, cup my own around her face. Stare at her willing mouth. Or pull it to my needy one.

It feels like forever since I've kissed my wife.

Tasted her.

And the way she tastes me tells me it feels the same to her. And something she never wants to feel again. Forever without this...

Without me giving her what she wants to feel. Which is just me. Any way that I can.

Which is all I want to do.

Give her and make her and get lost in only.

So I make her get up. So that I can. Because getting down for me is too hard.

And then I make her walk away from me again. "Go to the bedroom." But this time only so I can follow her. And _have_. "The one I can get to."

And once inside this room I've told her so many times to leave me alone in, I tell her to not. And watch her as she watches me drag myself out of my chair and onto our bed. "Now let me get to you. And show you how sorry I am that I couldn't before."

She follows my orders wordlessly and climbs onto the bed beside me. The place she wanted me to want her to be.

And I let her stay there...

But only long enough to show her what I want her to do next. Let me see all of her that I've been neglecting. And pushing away.

Neither of which I'm going to do now.

With my focus lost.

And only her coming more into before me.

Bared. Perfectly. For.

Because she let–and helped–me undress her.

Before she lets me move her. Tell her where to go with my hands that pull her on top of me. And down to, as I lay back.

"I missed you," I tell her, and pull her mouth to mine again. So that it can tell her how much it did. Even though it made itself.

And as she listens, graciously accepts my mouth that's been anything but gracious to her, my arms tell her how much they did. Crush her so hard to me that she couldn't not know. How her absence from them hurt. Another confession she accepts even though I inflicted that pain on myself. Before she forced it on me today without trying to.

Because I know now that she didn't.

Stubborn or not, she wouldn't. Wouldn't intentionally hurt me. Make me suffer no matter how much I made her.

Because Bella–my Bella–is above that. And would never love me in a way that I had to feel pain to feel _it_.

Because she's better than me. Better in every way.

I _know _it. And, though she would say I shouldn't because it isn't true–to her only–I want her to know I do.

That I know it deep.

And crave it all. Her...

Something my hands and arms tell her before my mouth does. Because they have to bring her to it so that it can.

Something they don't do gently. Or patiently. Because my craving is too strong to let them.

And too strong to wait. To take its time or give her the time she deserves. Or the attention. Before it just takes her.

Crushes her to my impatient mouth beneath her. Her selfless and giving _her_. That lets me take. Taste the mind numbing sweetness of. That only I know. And that she never wants anyone else to.

I could never not know that. Ever...

But certainly don't now as she gives it to me. Grips my arms that I think must be leaving their crushing imprint on her thighs. And leaves hers on me. On my tongue and my lips as she fucks them like she never has before.

Because they told her she couldn't ever again because she couldn't feel something else. Because I couldn't let her feel it. And then decided that she wouldn't feel less.

And that hurt her. Because before that they promised her they'd never. And would anything... everything... for her...

For as long as we lived. Exactly how long we promised each other we'd be together. No matter what. Before I took it back.

And just now. When I took back that taking.

And when she took it from me by taking over, telling me she knew I lied.

Then.

And when I told her I didn't want her.

This part of her.

That she's only ever given to me.

Only ever let _me _take.

That explodes with the truth I wanted her to have. And feel. When my head left me. Because thinking _she _had–and knowing she could have been taken–brought my heart to the surface.

And my mouth to her quivering.

And thinking it's won... with the taste of its and her victory still on my tongue...

And the delirious look of it in her eyes as she lowers herself from her victorious perch so that they can look into mine...

I know again that I can't let her see what she wants to.

Because my head is back.

And it's telling me this is wrong. And was.

Because she deserves more.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"_What_?"

"Go upstairs, Bella."

"You expect me to believe you want that _now_? I know what you want, Edward. You want what you just had. You want to know that you can have it whenever you want it. For the rest of our lives. Know, like you do, that no one else ever has, and that no one else _ever _will. Because it–and _every _other part of me–is yours."

"That's not what that was, Bella. Or what it meant."

"Not only, no, but yes. It was."

"No..."

"YES. Like when you said that you didn't _want _me. You know... when you so ridiculously _lied _to me...

"That I already knew, but that you and your arms and your mouth just screamed your confession of."

"That wasn't a confession. It was a... "

"A _what_?" I ask him as I watch him struggle to complete his newest lie.

"A goodbye," he says, and then adds to it because he knows I don't believe him. "And proof only of the fact that I was jealous for a few minutes. Which was apparently still the case when you came home, and the only reason I did what I did. Which I apologize for. Because it was cruel."

"_Cruel_?" I mimic, and shake my head, exasperated with his ridiculousness. "You might want to try something else, baby, because not even you can spin what you just did to me into any semblance of cruel."

"I'm not spinning anything, Bella. Cruel is exactly what it was. Because doing it, though not my intention, teased you. And, I know, made you think that I would do it again. Because, like you yourself pointed out, it made you think I _wanted _to, instead of why I really did."

"Which was?" I ask now, entertaining him for the moment, I suppose, because I'm curious about his spin.

"Like I said, I got jealous. Instead of just worried. Hearing another man's voice... hearing it so close to you... when I was so far away... it made me crazy for a second. Longer, obviously. And territorial. And, though I know I have no right to be beyond the basic fact that you're still technically my wife... I wanted you to remember that you once were in every way.

"It was a knee jerk–and _cocky _jerk, I admit–reaction. I needed to put one last stamp on you. One last mark of **MINE**. And I did. The only way I could."

"I know your _cocky_, Edward. What it looks like and what it feels like. And that wasn't it. Wasn't it at all."

"Bella..."

"You wanted me, Edward. So much in that moment that you forgot to tell yourself to tell me that you didn't. _That _is what it was. What it looked like and what it felt like. And you can't take that away from me now just because you think you should. Just because, after you took what you wanted, your head told you not to take any more. Or to let me give you."

I stop... resisting the urge to throw any more of his words back in his face. The ones he said. And the ones I heard. The ones he knows I did, and the ones he doesn't.

Because, for now, it's enough that I did. And that he said them. Was strong enough to, and weak enough to let himself be.

It's enough.

Even if he hadn't have done what he did...

What spoke innumerable words to me...

It would still be enough.

To tell him that he can't win.

Because I believed him.

When he didn't lie.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

What the fuck have I done?

All of the work...

The lies...

The pain...

That I inflicted on her and myself...

I just shattered it all. Because I needed to shatter her.

To know that I could. Still...

I didn't lie when I told her I was jealous. Crazy with being. I was...

And did need to put my **MINE **stamp on her.

But Jesus...

I made a mess.

All because I wanted her to make hers on me. Her beautiful, sweet mess...

FUCK!

That, as once again, she refuses to take an order from me and stays in this bed beside me, I can't bring myself to wash off.

Because I want it. Never want to be without it.

And need it...

To remind me why I have to.

**xx**

**Hold on, girls. Please. Do it for Bella.**

**And something for me, if you're feeling generous. Take a peek at my newest moment of weakness, too quiet. That's the name of it. too quiet. And, I know what I said... but it just wouldn't be. Quiet at all. And was screaming at me...**

**And one more thing... after almost two years... Come Closer's/Right There's Isabella has something to scream about. Was given it–along with a new name (squeeeeeeeeeeeee)–in chapter 3. That I just posted on the 3rd. *sigh***

**That's it. See you soon. xo**


	20. Chapter 20: Shattered

**Chapter Twenty: Shattered**

**Bella**

Edward is still sleeping when I wake up. And I do my best not to move too much. No more than I have to to look at him. The him who isn't fighting me, or pushing me away. Because when he sleeps, he can't tell himself to or remind himself to. And whatever he's dreaming of–on this morning, at least–doesn't do it for him.

I know this because there's a hint of a smile playing on his lips. The very lips that put a huge one on mine last night. Because they played on _me_... and for me... and most importantly, for _him_.

No matter what they did or said to me after, they'd already given me that. His weakness for me. That before we got to this place, he would have called a strength. And called it that proudly.

He truly would have...

Would have screamed it from rooftops.

How much he loved me. And wanted me. And how happy he was to _have_.

I'll never not know that. Or that he still would. _Still _wants to and be. But just doesn't believe that he should. Keep me or anything good for himself.

Because he thinks I could be happier without him.

Because his thoughts are all twisted up. Mangled. Battered and broken.

His thoughts, _not _him. Not to me. Not ever to me.

Me... the person who could never be happy without him. Happy at all, let alone _happier_, like he thinks.

And like the way that I have to find to make him stop thinking.

And will. If it takes me forever. Which is the _only _thing I won't accept different than from him.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

Bella's not next to me when I wake up.

But she's here.

Surrounding me...

Holding on to me with an unrelenting grip...

Owning me...

With her scent. And her surrender. To my **MINE **stamp.

That she was always proud to wear once I put it on her. Once she _let _me.

Not just for this reason... this reminder left sweetly under my nose...

But for every imaginable.

Because once I made her love me she did it completely. Loved everything about me. Everything I was, and everything she knew I wanted to be for her. And do. Make her feel and make her know and make her want to keep. Forever.

And she _still _loves me. Just as much. Just as completely. Even though she knows I'm trying to take it all away from her.

Which is just one more reason I should _keep _trying.

Because she deserves better.

Better than that.

Better than this.

So much better...

Than me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I really don't want it to take forever to show Edward how wrong he is. Is thinking...

And it may not happen today...

But I'm kind of proud of my brain right now. The thing it thought up to do to show him. The thing I left him yesterday so that I could do in the best way. Before I came back for him to do something in an amazing.

Show me how he really felt. When he was vulnerable and scared. Because he thought he might have lost me. To someone or something he couldn't see or control...

And, though the first part of that is ridiculous, it scared him enough to make him take control of _me_. Issue orders I was more than happy to obey.

_Come_s and_ Go_s that were for him instead of for that better he thinks would be my existence without him.

An existence that will never. Whether he's sitting still unable to move or chasing me because he can.

Very soon he'll see...

That I was and will always be his either way. And his in every. And deliriously happy to be.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I don't see Bella anywhere when I emerge from the scene of my most recent crime against her. Literally _against_...

And she doesn't answer when I call her name.

Telling me unequivocally that she isn't here. Because she'd never ignore me if she was. If I was giving her a chance to not. And to be where she wants to be. Which is wherever I am. Near me _how_ever...

And since she isn't, I let myself relax a little. Not too much... not like last night...

But enough so that I can breathe without it hurting my chest. And my heart beneath it. For just a few minutes.

That I hope is all it will be until I can't anymore.

Because I hate it when she's anywhere but here.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

It's been an hour and she still isn't home. Where I can see her, smell her, or touch her. Not that I plan to ever do the last of those things again...

Plan to _let _myself...

I don't.

And even though it's early, darkness an entire day's worth of hours away, I'm having trouble breathing again. Without that pain that's becoming too familiar to me. The one I inflict daily on myself. And that she's adding to now.

The _This is how it will feel when she's gone_ pain. The _This is what_ _winning will feel like_ pain. The only kind of winning I'll ever know again.

Pain, pain, pain...

That I'll suffer.

Gladly.

Gallantly.

And in silence.

For her.

So that she'll never have to.

Never again.

Once she leaves her suffering with–_and_–me behind.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

"Hi there." Edward is on the couch when I come through the foyer. And when I smile at him he pretends not to have been waiting to see me do so. Or for me at all, I suppose...

But I don't let that bother me. That, or anything else he may be planning with that twitching-in-thought jaw of his. Not that I can see much of it under all of the scruff he's let cover it...

Which, if I'm being honest, bothers me a little. Not because he looks bad... Edward couldn't possibly. And not because it felt bad against my skin when his mouth was against my most sensitive... AS IF. But simply because I miss seeing the chiseled perfection of it. My most favorite of all of his all.

Which he knows... though unfortunately doesn't seem to remember, since he's been so focused on another of his chiseled parts. That I could never deny I loved, too, but by no means loved more than him. The man deep inside all of that chiseled perfection. Deep inside and lost...

Inside something even harder. Now that he's dug his heels back in.

But I won't let that bother me, either. And head up the stairs with the bags full of the last part of my plan to fight it and him. "I'll be back down in a minute and whip us up a tailgate-style lunch. It's just about time for Emmett's game."

That I'm hoping will distract him from thinking about anything. For three hours, anyway.

So after it I don't have to ask Emmett if he has enough energy left to kick his stubborn, beautiful ass for me.

Which he would do _without _my asking if he had any clue how stubborn his best friend has been being with me.

And how stupid.

Which is exactly why I haven't told him anything.

Because stubborn or stupid or not...

I like his beautiful ass the way it is.

In _one _beautiful piece.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Watching Emmett's game did seem to distract him. But as soon as it was over, he was back to trying to distract himself. With anything but me.

So I made it easy for him.

I removed myself from his ignoring-me side and went back upstairs. To work on _my _distraction. The one that I hope will put his focus back where it should be. On _us_. The happy to be alive and happy to be it together us.

But once my happy distraction was ready, I decided to give it to him tomorrow instead of today. Because tomorrow I won't be able to give him any of _me_–whether he looks at or not–for several hours because I'll be giving my attention to the sweet faces who don't hide from me what it means to them.

Or what I do. Ever.

One of my students even told me a couple of days ago that he wished he could be in the first grade forever. Because it was the best grade he'd ever be in, he was sure. Because I was his teacher and the best one ever in the whole world. And the prettiest, he added after, with the sweetest turned-shy smile...

That made me, because what girl doesn't like hearing that once in a while? Even if it's not from the person you want to hear it from most.

Edward never used to let a day go by without telling me that exact thing. Or some variation of it.

A _him _variation. That always earned him at least a special only-for-him smile. Or a weakened pair of belonged-to-him-only-too knees. Mine, of course...

But he doesn't remember that now. Those never-let-one-go-by days. Or the things he made sure I'd never not know he thought.

Because there's only one thing he wants to tell me every now. "Go upstairs, Bella. And do NOT tell me no. For one night, _don't_."

"How about you for one night don't say that thing that gives me no choice?"

"I already said it."

"Yes, you did. So... NO."

"Bella–"

"No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no–"

"Enough!"

"Okay. Because really, Edward, the NOs have been wearing me out."

"Well, then you surely must be EXHAUSTED now. So, please, use what little bit of energy you have left after your incessant repetition of said wear-you-out words, and go to bed. In the one UPstairs."

"Actually, sweetheart, I'm _so _worn out from being forced to repeat them so incessantly that I couldn't possibly make it up those stairs again today."

"Bella, I'm not asking you."

"I know you're not."

"Then why are you still where I can see you?"

"Because where you can see me is where I belong when it's time to say goodnight to days we were blessed with the gift of having lived to see the end of."

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

"I've never once done that, Edward."

"You're doing it now."

"Making you angry? Well, I'm truly sorry for that, but I promise you that I'm not trying to."

"GO. UP. STAIRS. BELLA."

"Give. Me. One. VALID. Reason. To. Edward."

"Because I said so."

"Ah, your favorite reason. And mine too, not so very long ago... making you the luckiest man alive... but not so very long ago does not include today, so try again, my love."

"Try again? Okay... how's this? I don't want to look at you! You, with your needs and your wants and your stubborn and selfish disregard for mine!"

Well, that was... _harsh_. Whether he meant it or not, it...

Well, it...

Hit.

Landed.

And hurt.

And... "Okay," I tell him. And then repeat it. "Okay, Edward." And give him some ground, since he's willing to fight me–and hit–so hard for it. "You don't have to. Look at me... _see_ me for me to keep my promise to you."

"What are you talking about now?"

"I promised you for better or for worse. This is obviously the 'worse' part. So, okay." I grab my pillow from the bed and walk around it and out of the room. Making him think he's finally won, I'm sure. Something I'll let him think for a minute. Which is all it takes me to run upstairs like he wanted me to. Go to the linen closet and grab a blanket. And then run back down.

To show him how hard _I'm _willing to fight.

By–this time–giving him exactly what he said he wanted.

In a way that he'd never expect.

And won't like...

AT. ALL.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

She went. She actually went.

Gave in. Gave _up_. And went...

And...

I feel like I've been punched in the gut.

And, with every passing second, punched again. Again and again and again and again and...

I can't breathe. Because she gave up. Easily.

_Too _easily.

Making every time she didn't suddenly and painfully not exist.

_Fuck, it hurts..._

It hurts so bad...

To get the thing you want but don't.

Never did and never could.

It HURTS.

Like– She's back.

With her pillow and– _No..._

_Bella, no..._

"What are you doing?" I ask her, though I know.

"The only thing I can," she answers, the knowledge of how much I don't like it all over her face. "To be fair to both of us."

"Bella, _don't_. I mean it. Don't you dare..."

_Please don't..._

Do that thing she just did.

That thing that hits me harder than the other thing she did before it. "Get up, Bella."

"No can do. The trip upstairs for the blanket took all of the energy I could muster."

"You're _not _sleeping down there."

"Not yet, no... but I will be soon. I really am very tired."

"Dammit, Bella, don't do this!"

"I'm doing what you wanted. Going to sleep where you can't see me. You can't, right?"

"It's not funny, Bella. You know it's not, so please–"

"Yes, I know. And it's not supposed to be. It's merely me obeying my husband. And giving him what he wants. To not have to look at me, like he made clear he doesn't want to do. While I do what a wife should. And do it happily. And easily. And because it's not only my duty as a good, but my honor. To stay by his side. Even if he doesn't want to see me there."

"Please... "

"Goodnight, Edward."

"No! Not goodnight! Get up off of that floor right now!"

"Can't. Too... tired... "

"Bella! Stop this!"

The next sound from her isn't a word. Or a string of them. It's simply a sound. A small as it leaves her lips...

But a huge as it reaches my ears. And my heart. And my mind that can see her even though I can't at this second.

I can _see _her. Lying there. By my side but not.

Because she lowered herself from it while she stayed at it.

As low as she could.

Knowing it would kill me.

"Bella, please... "

I know she hears me. Isn't asleep yet. Is wide awake and fighting to stay. As hard as she's fighting to stay with me. Where I want her more than anything.

But _not _like this.

Beneath me in this way.

This way that's wrong. The most painfully wrong way I could imagine...

And never did. NEVER would have wanted _her _to imagine. Think up or do...

Especially not _do_... "Bella... PLEASE get up. I know you can hear me. I know you're listening. Please, Bella? Please... It's too much. You know it's too much. Please... "

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I knew he wouldn't like it.

Knew he'd _hate _it...

Knew it would kill him to see me like that.

Beneath him. As low as I could put myself. _For _him.

And so willing to be there. And to stay there.

No matter what he said. How he pleaded with me. Begged me...

To move. Get up. _Rise _up...

And fight for myself.

For where _he _thinks I belong. Above him but no longer with. No longer by his side. Where I'll stay no matter how high or low I have to go to.

I knew he'd hate it... this thing I did...

But I never imagined this. That it would push him this far. To this desperate pulling. His on me as he leans over the side of the bed. Tries to find leverage. Tries to lift me despite _not _finding it. All the while still pleading... "Don't do this to me, Bella. I can't stand it. You know I can't. Please... "

"I'm not doing it to you, Edward," I whisper, because I can't ignore him. Can't pretend I don't hear him and feel him...

Hearing him–even the things he doesn't say–and feeling him are what I'm doing it all for. All of the fighting. And all of the not when I think I shouldn't. When what I hear tells me to be quieter than it is. And he is.

Be softer. Sweeter. Gentler... "I'm only doing what my heart tells me to do. What it needs me to. To keep it whole."

"You're breaking mine," he admits, his desperate pulling becoming more. And becoming too much for me. Not because his strong arms are proving to me just how much they really are, but because his heart is. Proving how much it is. And how beautiful. And full. Of good... and right... and me. Still...

"I'd never do that."

"You are, Bella. You're doing it right now."

"Then let me stop. And yourself stop trying to make me."

"Please get up."

"I will. I'll get up for you, Edward... if you give me another place to go."

"You know where I want you to go."

"Yes I do... nowhere. Only that's not where you _tell_ me to go."

"Bella... I'm begging you... "

"You never have to do that. You know that."

"Stop twisting everything I say."

"Stop twisting _us_. And me out of. It won't work. I won't let you do it. I'll never let you, Edward."

"Get up, Bella, please. Don't twist the knife. I already know you're better. You know I do. So, get up and be. And go... leave me... to _have_."

"There's only one place I'll go, Edward. If I get up from here... this place where I'm willing to be for you... only _one_. And it's easy... I promise you it is... to get me to go there. You have only to tell me... only have to say the words... "

_Please say the words, Edward..._

_The ones you want to say so much it hurts..._

_You..._

_And me..._

"Bella... "

_Please, baby... you can do it..._

_Tell me what you want..._

_Tell me _where _you want me to be..._

"Please come back up here."

_Just. Like. That._ "Okay."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I couldn't stand it. Just like she knew I wouldn't be able to when she did it. Put herself in a place I'd never want her. At my feet, so to speak. But not...

Not the way I liked.

Not the way I _loved_...

The way that felt good...

Felt amazing...

Beyond amazing...

The way she meant for it to...

All of those other times...

The times I asked her to. Be at my feet. Or told her to. Ordered...

In a way that she loved. Because I did. Because she let me. Love it and love her and...

But this wasn't like that. Wasn't like that at all. The way that she did this time...

The way that didn't feel amazing or beyond. Didn't feel good. And couldn't have felt worse.

For me. _To _me...

To see my beautiful, sweet, perfect wife be so strong...

By making herself look weak. And beaten. And defeated. While kicking my ass.

Beating _me_. And winning. This battle. With grace.

Because she didn't rub it in my face once she had. Didn't gloat or boast or look smug. She didn't do any of that. She didn't do anything at all.

But say thank you. And sweet dreams. And goodnight.

Before she closed her eyes again. Not even allowing them to take pride in her victory. Or my loss.

Because as long as she still had me...

She didn't need anything else.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Just like yesterday morning, Bella isn't next to me when I wake up.

And when I make my way out of our bedroom, I don't see her.

But I _do_, too.

See her. And myself.

In every room of our house I roll into and then out of trying to get away...

I see _us_.

Very specific and meticulously chosen-by-her versions of us.

They're everywhere...

She's placed photographs on literally every available surface. Happy moments shining proudly and brightly under their shiny glass windows into our past. The past she's telling me once again that she wants to be our present. And our future. And our always.

The past in which she's made sure I look the same as I do now.

Not the length of my hair, or the scruff on my prized-by-her jaw, or anything so obvious...

But something even more. To me. Because in every single photograph I'm _sitting_.

In some I'm beside her. In some she's in my lap. In others she's standing behind me, leaning down to my lowered level.

In photograph after photograph after photograph...

That she's made me the star of. The SITTING star. Who was too happy feeling like one to think about how I was doing it. Or that it could ever be used against me. Or to keep me against her, no matter how much below.

_I see it, Bella... I see what you wanted me to... _

_But I had a choice then. I could have gotten up. Stood, jumped, or flipped if I'd wanted to..._

_Flown..._

_I SEE, dammit! So, why can't you? See that I can't live this way with you? At this lowered level that I can never rise up from? Never be more or better than? _

_WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND? That it's too much? Too much to ask of me and too much to take from you or make you settle for?_

_IT'S JUST TOO MUCH!_

And all I can do is make her see _that_. And hear it wherever she is that I can't see right now.

In the only way I can bring myself to.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I wanted to show Edward something. It's why I erected the gallery of us in every place his eyes might fall or land.

And I know he's seen it now. With eyes that aren't still closed. And lips that no longer wear the hint of a smile, though his didn't on this morning. And though I can't see them now...

From our bedroom upstairs where I put our gallery together. Before I put it _down_stairs to greet him. Say good morning to him. And I miss you. And I love you.

All things he didn't want to hear apparently.

Because I hear something.

I hear glass breaking. Shattering as it hits walls and stair rails and whatever other places he aimed it at.

Telling me without a word how much he hates my gift.

The one I gave him of me. Telling him that he will always be mine. My greatest. No matter what. No matter what he's doing. Or how he's doing it. How he can or how he can't.

"No matter fucking what!" I declare to myself through my tears. And my constricting-with-the-pain-that-brought-them-out throat. Because it hurts. How much he hates my Good morning. And my I miss you. And my I love you.

It hurts!

How much he forces himself to. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I try to show him something that feels better. Than the hatred he has for himself. That hurts me more than he ever could.

Because I love him more than he could hate anything.

Something I'm going to go try to say another way.

Silence the shattering with.

And his determination to not hear this morning.

Because I can't bear _that _sound.

Like he couldn't bear a _sight _last night.

Before I didn't make him have to keep bearing it.

Not for another second after the ones he did.

And like I refuse to now.

Bear anymore of this 'worse'...

Because I want better from him.

And for.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

The shattering has stopped. I don't hear glass breaking anymore. Or his heart. Or mine, though that's often soundless...

I don't hear anything at all.

And I'm relieved for a moment. And hopeful. That maybe he's calmed down. That maybe he's _looking_. At something he couldn't help but see. Something I showed him. Something I gave him back.

A moment...

Or a memory...

Or the strength to tell me he wants more of both with me...

But then the relief starts to wander. Drift away. As I drift slowly toward the stairs. Down the first flight of.

Because maybe he'd already broken it all. Smashed everything he could reach. And is hating me for what he can't.

What I put too high. And out of his. Like he thinks I am. And should be...

I still don't hear him as I reach the second landing. The second break in this long, winding path downward. This place to rest. Before I get to the battleground at the bottom. That sounds too peaceful...

Too calm.

And too deceiving.

Like that storm that wasn't and that took my beautiful life away from me. And his from him. Because after it he decided they should be separate. That we should...

Me from him and him from me.

In different places. On different levels. Because he thinks he is...

_Different_. And _too _to deserve me anymore.

Something he's wrong about. So wrong...

Like what I see when I look down. At our lives shattered all over the stairs. The ones he carried me up a hundred times. Or ordered me to go up a hundred more. Not just the way he did last night or all of the others when I wouldn't...

But the way he used to. With that look in his eyes. The one that followed me up. And made my hair stand.

The one that sometimes didn't make it to the top. Or let me. Because it would have taken too long. And he couldn't wait...

To _take_ me...

And I couldn't make him. Wouldn't have wanted to if I could.

And let him take me right on these stairs.

Or made him...

On them or the rail above them...

Because _I _couldn't wait.

Like now.

Like I _can't _now.

Wait to make him take control. Of our lives again. The ones that I'll never let be separate. Or shattered like this glass at my feet. Crunching beneath them as I start to move with greater purpose. Down to him. Where he is. Where I can see him now. And hear him again.

Breaking...

The silence...

With an angry, tortured scream...

As he swings his bat...

At the us he couldn't reach without it...

The him and the me...

Sending them flying...

Us...

As hard as he could...

Back...

Behind him...

And right into... … ...


	21. Chapter 21: Clarity

**Chapter Twenty One: Clarity**

**Edward**

_Bella? Baby? Are you alr– Oh god... _

_Oh god, no... _

_Sweetheart..._

_NO! _

_Bella! God, what have I done?! _

_Bella? Please, Bella..._

_Please..._

_Oh my god, no! _

_What the hell have I– Bellaaaaaaaaaaaaa!_

Those words still echo all around me.

Those cries...

Those words and cries that were my own.

After I saw what I did to my wife.

My sweet, beautiful, perfect wife.

Sweet, beautiful, perfect, and _unconscious_.

And _bleeding_.

My wife...

Before they took her away...

And away from me...

And left me here...

To drown in a sea of pain and regret and broken glass.

The sea that I couldn't get through to get to her...

With my chair. And had to leave it, and its help behind me as I jumped into that much too rough and help_less_ sea. To swim through... crawl through... _drag _myself through... to reach her.

After which I finally did... and saw how badly I'd hurt her... I had to drag myself back. The other way... _away _from her... while she laid there needing my help...

Because I'd left my phone somewhere behind me. Somewhere I couldn't even remember where was. Somewhere that took much too long to get to and...

I screamed at the 911 operator when I finally found it. And kept screaming as I crawled pathetically back to where none of my screaming had disturbed anything. Anything including her, who I needed and needed it _to _disturb.

To wake her. To rouse her in any way from her unintended and unwanted and unfathomable sleep...

That I was afraid to wake her from. But tried to. _Desperately_.

I called her name... cried it... hers and every pet one I'd ever given her... as I touched her as gently as I could... shook her and squeezed her as much as I dared to... afraid to hurt her more than I already had...

There's blood on my hands. And on my lips. All over me. From her cheek... and from her hair... and from the endlessly gushing gash on her head that it all came from. And that I tried to stop... tried to put pressure on with my shirt... gently but firmly... as I cried more...

I'm sorrys and I didn't mean tos and I didn't know you were theres...

I love yous and I'd never hurt yous and...

A thousand other things she couldn't hear. And that I couldn't be sure she'd ever.

Or ever want to even if she could.

If she woke up.

That she _would _do... WILL do... or I will die.

In every way there is to.

Maybe even before I know if she's okay or not.

Because Emmett just tore through our front door. And is staring in horror at what I did. And then in horror at me. And in disbelief.

And _rage.._. "You will explain this to me, Edward... every fucking bit of it... every unacceptable fucking detail!"

I nod and bury my face in my soaked-with-her-blood shirt... the only part of her I can touch now...

Because when the paramedics took her away they said I had to stay... and wait for others... that they'd call... but for the police is probably what they meant...

But I'm not waiting for anyone. Because Emmett was _my_ call. My second. And he got here first.

Here, and then to our bedroom and back again, throwing a clean shirt in my face and ripping the other out of my hand. The one that's practically dripping with– "Whose is it?"

"My shirt, her blood... " I think I say.

And then know I did as his fist connects with my already bloodied face. HARD. "Whatever the details are... I know you had at least that coming."

"Please take me, Emmett. Please take me to her," I beg, not arguing for a second about what I had coming. Or have. Or will gladly take from anyone and everyone if she isn't taken from me.

This way. This horrific and unthinkable way. That's my fault. All my... "Please... "

"Put the shirt on, Edward," he says calmly and looks away from me. Shocked and disgusted by. And to what he's more disgusted by. Bella's and my once-perfect life shattered under his feet. And all around them. And mine, that don't touch any of it.

In the second I can't see him, the second it takes me to pull my shirt over my head, he's picked up a piece. He holds it in his hands now. And then shoves it in my face, forcing me to look at it.

A piece half intact and half not. Half broken and half whole.

The glass covering me in the picture is cracked, but not gone or broken completely. Some pieces are missing, have fallen out, but others remain, like a spiderweb I've gotten stuck in.

But Bella... the glass that covered her... shielded her perfection... _still _does. It's unmarred. Undisturbed. And solid. The spiderweb cracks don't reach her. Don't touch her. Her or her beautiful smile...

The one she wears for me... as she looks at... proudly. And with her own kind of **MINE **stamp. One that's permanent. And fierce.

One that could never be washed away or scrubbed off.

Or cracked. Or broken. Or shattered.

One that could never fade.

A **Mine no matter what**.

Hers...

No matter–

He takes it away now, and walks away from me, glass crunching loudly under his feet. His heavy and purposeful steps. The sound echoing painfully in my ears...

Until I can't hear it at all. Can't hear anything but the silence I created. Because he stops. Stands that piece upright on the mantle above the fireplace. A place where I can't reach it. Can't touch it. Can't hurt it or damage it any more.

And walks back. And heaves me with more care than I deserve up and over his shoulder. And then my chair up and over the mess I made of all that was sweet and beautiful and perfect. And carries us both through my front door without another word.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"You're bleeding too, you know."

Emmett's observation tells me I was wrong about our drive to the hospital being a silent one. Wrong and... "I don't care."

"Bella would care. And I do, even though I want to kill you right now."

"I wish you would."

"Yeah, well, it's not going to happen."

"If she's not okay... "

"Then you'll have to live with that."

"I won't be able to."

"You won't have a choice. Just like you don't now, about telling me what the hell's been going on in that house."

"I wanted _her _to make one."

"She already did, Edward. The one you wanted her to make more than any other. Jumped through hoops so she'd see how much you wanted her to. Not that she didn't know... or couldn't possibly have not... what with all of your shameless begging."

"It _was _shameless. I loved her and needed her to believe it. And something different about me than what she already did."

"Love."

"What?"

"You _love _her, not loved. And it's still shameless."

"Of course I do. But it will never be shameless again, Emmett. Not after today. Not after what I did."

"So, don't forget that. That shame that you feel right now. And don't ever let the other kind you feel hurt her again."

"I never wanted to hurt her... "

"And don't hide behind it, because _that's _a lie."

"A lie? You think I wanted to–"

"I may not know the details yet, Edward... but I do know _you_. And I'm not stupid. And don't need to hear them first to know what you were doing. What you've been doing–to her and to yourself–for God knows how long. You left me plenty of broken pieces back there to put it together."

"I wanted her life to be _better_... "

"And is it? Is it better now? Is _this _better, Edward?! Did it make you feel _better _to watch that ambulance take your life away while you sat there, left behind and helpless?! Was the pain you inflicted on her before you did _better _for her?! Not just the pain she's in now, but the other? That you know hurt her far more than what you did today?! IS IT BETTER?!"

"I don't know that... that it hurt her more... because I don't know _anything_. I don't know if she's–"

"Don't tell me you don't know anything, Edward. Because you do. You know what I know... you know that she's _strong_. And tough. The strongest and toughest and most stubborn woman you or I will ever know. Or have the privilege to. And the privilege to love and adore. And be loved and adored by.

"You, because you're who you proved to her you could be, though you're hiding behind something you could never be right now. And me, because I won't let you anymore. Because I love you too, you fucking asshole. And because, though I still may kick your stupid and stubborn ass, I won't kill you. Because I love _her_, too. And because, after all of this time, your wife finally adores me instead of just tolerates me, and, unlike you, I think that's an honor and would never try to make her stop or feel any other way."

"_Adores_ you is pushing it," I say stupidly, because it makes me stupidly and irrationally jealous to hear him say it.

"You _wish _it was."

Though not selfish. "I'd wish for it to be _everything _if she could just be okay."

"You sure it was your spine that got fucked up in that accident, Edward? Because I think your brain is what's fucked up."

"It's _all _fucked up," I say as we pull up to the hospital doors.

That my life lies somewhere behind.

Because it's where I put her...

My life...

My _wife_...

All because, no matter how fucked up I am...

She still wanted to _be_.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cullen, but you simply can not see her right now. And appear to need to see a doctor yourself, so–"

"I don't need to see a damn doctor! I need to see my wife!"

"Your wife is being treated right now, just as you need to be. I'm going to page Dr. Molina to–"

"I'm going to ask you one more time... WHERE IS SHE?!"

"She's with your father."

The answer I wanted comes from behind me, and from the pained voice of my mother. The pained voice that matches the pained and stricken look on her face as I turn around, acknowledging only the first. "Where?"

But she doesn't give me another, and asks a question of her own. "Edward, what _happened_?"

"_I_ happened. To her... and... "

And I can't say any more. Because what I said is enough. Enough and too much...

And too _wrong_...

And I don't have to tell her _that _for her to know.

"Your father is going to take care of her, Edward. I promise you he is. Far better care than he's taken of, or given to, his son. To _you_. That, believe me, he knows the hard truth of his failing to do now."

"I'm responsible for this. No one else."

"Everyone else doesn't get let off the hook just because we got ourselves cast away, Edward. Especially the person who didn't, and just–"

"Nothing matters right now but Bella."

She nods her head, giving up for now, though I know that won't last forever, just like her silence doesn't, and joins the nurse's page. "You're hurt, too. You need to let Dr. Molina look at you."

"I'm fine," I say loud enough for _both _of them to hear me. "I don't want anyone to look at me. I want to see Bella."

"Your father is with her right now, you can't see her yet. And you're not fine, you're–"

"I said I'm _fine_. All I need is to see Bella... "

"I'm sure you will soon, but right now you need to see a doctor. You're bleeding and–"

"It's HER blood!"

My mother jumps at my screamed declaration, from its sound or its meaning, I'm not sure, but still doesn't relent. "Not all of it. Some of it is yours. You might not even be able to feel it, but you're–"

"I assure you, Mother, I _feel _everything."

"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to... Oh, honey..."

"He's a big boy, Mrs. C," Emmett says out of nowhere, reminding me of his presence, "not that you'd know it from the little boy tantrum he threw this morning that got him–and Bella–to where we are now...

"And, believe me, a hard dose of his _reality_–though you didn't mean to give it to him–is _exactly_ what he needs and deserves. So, don't apologize to him."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

My mother was right. I couldn't feel some of the injuries my–Emmett was right, too–tantrum had caused me. The cuts on my legs... because I had to drag them through the shards of broken glass I covered our floor with...

But these injuries I can't feel are nothing compared to the ones I inflicted on my wife. Whose they still, after mine have been examined and treated with no cooperation from me, won't let me see. Or tell me anything about.

I don't know anything but that she's alive. And knowing that, while certainly a gift I don't deserve, is not enough. I need to know more. I need to know how she is. How badly I hurt her. How much damage I did.

To the woman who loved me enough to let me do it. Let me do it every fucking day, and still tell me she'd stay so that I could do more. Hurt her more...

Simply–and not at all–so that I wouldn't for the rest of her or my life.

The ones she refused to see as ever being separate. Not shared and lived together. That I could only see being as being suffered... for her.

That I see clearer than ever now...

But not, too, because I _can't_ see her.

And because I _can _see what I painfully wanted. What it is to be cut off from her. From seeing, and hearing, and knowing anything about.

It's not exactly the same...

I wanted those things I'd never have the privilege of seeing, hearing, and knowing to be _good _things. Smiles on her beautiful face, and love–for some other lucky bastard–in her beautiful heart, and pure joy in her every day. Felt with her every breath...

I never wanted them, or imagined them, to be what they are now. What she is now...

_Hurt_. Feeling pain or feeling none because her body won't wake up to let her feel anything.

Won't let her wake up to know that the person she felt so much love for could inflict such cruel and unappreciative damage on her.

I never considered it...

That anyone would ever hurt her. Or do, or want to do, anything but worship her. I let myself be consumed and tortured by thoughts of how they _would_... worship, love, and cherish her...

But never how someone might not. And might cause her pain instead.

I never imagined her life without me as anything but better. Never imagined that once I stopped hurting her, and she stopped letting me, and she healed from how I had, and how she had, that anything would ever hurt her again.

I NEVER did.

Thought that anything I wouldn't know she was or was feeling could be anything that would hurt me to. In _this _way.

That now that I do...

Know and feel what it's like...

Because I know _nothing_...

Know that I never want to feel again.

"LET ME SEE MY WIFE!"

**xx**

**I know this is a little short... and that the wait for it hasn't been... but baby steps, okay? Or strokes... because he has a lot of ground–and a big sea of pain and regret–to get through. Perhaps like that big chunk of trust I've asked you to give me here, no matter how much it seemed like you had no reason to... well... until now, maybe?**

**And I want to just mention another plea for trust... that I made good on, so to speak... THE chapter of Right There (the one Come Closer–its predecessor–readers waited for and never got) was posted last week. And, though a _sweet_, was just a preview of what else its readers will get. **

**AND... for any of you who may be too quiet readers... because I gave you this this morning, I don't have time before I go to work to give you that. But I'll try to when I get home tonight.**

**And last but not least... Thank you all for being here, and in any of those other places of mine that you may be, or decide to trust me again and go... It really does mean the world to me. xo**


	22. Chapter 22: The Sound of Waking Up

**Chapter**** Twenty Two: The Sound of Waking Up**

**Edward**

They finally let me see her. See what I'd done…

See what I had to live with. And what I would beg for the chance to up close.

Yes, _would _beg for. And will…

When she wakes up. _When_, not if. Because, even though she hasn't yet, my father assured me that she will. When her body is ready for her to. When, and with what I pray isn't tremendous pain, and with no permanent damage to mar her just as perfect as she is brain.

That may, I know, no matter what her heart tells her, tell her that I'm not perfect–or even good enough–for her anymore. And not healthy. Things I won't blame it or her for if she listens to it.

And if Charlie doesn't kill me before she has the chance to listen to or hear anything.

"Chief Swan… I–"

"_Chief Swan_? That's a bit formal, don't you think, Edward? For my son in law to address me as?"

He leans down and kisses Bella's forehead, and whispers a soft "I love you, baby girl" that sends tears instantly down my face. Or down harder and faster, since I don't think the ones that started falling the moment I was let into her room ever stopped.

"I'm so sorry… " Words that aren't and will never be enough escape thickly and painfully through my throat. Words on repeat with my tears, that aren't enough, either, but that I say anyway, because I don't know what else to. And because, no matter what Charlie does to me, I need to know that he at least heard them first, and hopefully their with-all-of-my-heart sincerity, since he gave me the honor of listening to and believing every other thing I ever told him I felt for or about her.

And he did hear me… but the look in his eyes when we both tear ours from her beautiful face doesn't give me any hint of _how _he did.

Nor do they during any of the seemingly endless minutes that follow, his eyes still glued to mine.

I won't look away, no matter how hard it is to not, and time continues to pass, the only noise that of the monitors or machines or whatever the hell they are that Bella is hooked up to.

And then, after what feels like hours, he speaks to me. My father in law. The man who put his greatest treasure in my hands and trusted me never to break her. "Do you truly believe, Edward, that I would ever think that you could or would hurt my daughter intentionally?"

"No… " I say, the word heavy on my tongue, because I don't deserve the truth it holds. "But I did hurt her, and the fact that I didn't intend to–"

"Makes it just a terrible accident."

"Charlie, I don't deserve your–"

"_Wrath_, Edward. The wrath that I thought about letting loose on you the whole way here. Until I walked into this room and saw you… and the one you let loose on yourself."

"That was Emmett."

"I'm not talking about your face, son. Not the physical damage it's wearing, anyway."

"It's not enough, Charlie… for what I did to her."

"Well, I could make the other side match… but then, when our girl wakes up and asks who did that to the person she loves more than any other in the whole world, I don't want to have to say that I had any part in it. I may be second in her heart, but any lower on the list than that–unless it was for my grandchild, or grandchild_ren_–would shatter mine."

"_That_, I deserve. But, can I ask… Do you have someone in mind already? To father those grandchildren?"

"You know I do, Edward. The only man I–not to mention my daughter–have ever wanted, or would ever want to. And just in case who that is isn't clear to you, it's the same man that it was before my phone rang today, telling me that that man wasn't as perfect as I thought he was, and perhaps even pressured him to be, and that he is, just like the rest of us, only human after all."

"There are so many things wrong with what you just said… how highly you ever did, or even still may, think of me… but even if you forgive me for this, and even if she does, I can't give either of you what you both should have, Charlie. I–"

"The only thing you can't give me, son, because I won't accept it from you, is any uninformed and incorrectly assumed load of crap about what you _think _you can't give my daughter."

"I don't–"

"Don't tell me what you don't, Edward. And don't tell me what you can't. Tell me what you _will_."

"I… " I _what_? What can I possibly say to him? What–

"Do you love my little girl?"

"God, yes… "

"Any less than you ever did?"

"No… I could never love her less… I love her more every day. More than should be possible… since how much I loved her yesterday… and the day before that… and the day before that… was more than I ever thought was."

"And more than what you feel for yourself?"

"I could never love myself more than I love her, Charlie. I–"

"Love yourself, no. But I don't think how much you _love _yourself is what is what got us here. Do you, Edward? And do you love her more that what did? _Can _you?"

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"That's what happened. All of it."

"We'll still need to talk to your wife, Mr. Cullen, when she's well enough, but unless her account of this morning's events differs completely from yours, which we don't anticipate, given even her police chief father has unwavering belief in yours, I don't think you'll be seeing us again. Thank you for your cooperation."

I wasn't cooperative at all. In fact, I believe my exact words when they told me I had to leave Bella's room to talk to them were "Get fucked."

But Charlie, who had already spoken to them, as had Emmett, my mother, and my father, said that that approach was only going to make the situation appear to be something it wasn't. And more painful for Bella…

So, because of that reason and that reason only, my beautiful wife who I never want to hurt again, I changed my tune. And answered all of their questions. Told them everything that happened in those early morning moments I can never get back. Never get the chance to do over. Do again a different way. The way I know Bella wanted me to and hoped I would. Worked so hard to give me the chance to...

No matter what I do from _this _moment on, I can never undo the damage I did in those. And the damage that was done before…

To me...

In another handful of early morning moments on another rainy day.

The constant and steady drizzle that was our company throughout most of this dark, miserable day has turned into a full fledged storm. Full fledged and violent. Reminding me painfully of my behavior this morning.

The hard falling rain is being thrashed against the windows of Bella's room by a strong wind, like the shattered glass that fell in a downpour all around me after I'd blown my own fierce wind through it. Wind created by the swings of my bat…

Before the final one that has forever returned it to its previously dormant state, because that final swing could have cost Bella her life, and me any want or desire to live mine in any way.

I thought I could live without her…

That I could do it if it was _for _her…

But I was wrong. I _can't_. And I won't. Unless she gives me no choice.

Unless it's what _she _truly wants.

Do I believe that it will be? My first instinct is to say no…

That she'd _never _want that…

But that may just be my hope rearing its woken up by shame and sorrow head.

And my brain's reasoning that I didn't break Bella's lone _You'll only lose me if _rule. The one I'd never break…

If I were stranded on a desert island with the second most beautiful woman in the world–Bella is the first–for forty years, I wouldn't break it. I'd never be unfaithful to my wife.

NEVER.

Not that I'm physically capable of it now… or of being a complete and completely faithful and doting husband _to _her…

But on her life I never would have. Never in a thousand lifetimes, even if I were still whole and capable of anything.

I thought of that rule many times during my cruel and stupid attempts to try to add others to it. How that one foolproof thing was the one I'd never do. And not only because I'd never hurt Bella that way, even though that reason would have been enough a million times over, but because I could never _do _it.

Until the moment the last breath flows from my lungs, I'll never want another woman. Not in any way.

Not to touch, or kiss, or hold in my arms.

Not to tell about my day or listen to stories about hers that make me jealous just because I wasn't a part of every minute of them.

Not to see smile at me, or hear laugh at, and then do everything I could think of that would make her keep laughing…

Not to bury myself in the sweet scent and comforting softness of, and wish I would never be anywhere else.

Not to tell she's beautiful. And perfect. And God's greatest work.

_My _greatest gift. And treasure. And honor.

My _Bella_ is the only woman who could ever be any and _all _of those things to me.

The one woman who made me want them. _Need _them…

Need _her_.

And want her to need me. Just as much. Just as desperately. Just as irrationally. No matter what…

The very way she did.

And the very way I told her she couldn't anymore. Again and again and again…

Before I hurt her. In the worst possible. The most real. And literal.

Breaking the one rule that didn't need to be spoken to a man so completely in love.

That should never need to be spoken to any…

But never, ever to me.

I _hurt _my wife.

Caused her physical pain. Injured her. Could have killed her…

Me, the man who did anything and everything I could to make her know that I never would. That I only wanted to love her. Cherish her. _Worship _her…

I hurt her.

And did it with the love she tried to give me. Show me. Make me remember.

And everything else she wanted it to make me forget…

Most of all my stupid plan. That was hurting her every minute of every day that I wouldn't let it go and get back to ours. The one I'd fought so hard so that there could be. An_ us_…

A her and me.

_The _her and me.

Something that was so beautiful…

So extraordinary…

So perfect…

And so unbreakable…

That I should never have tried to.

Or force her to let me.

I never should have. I know that now. How wrong it was, despite how right I wanted it to be for her. Convinced myself it _would _be.

Convinced myself of a _lie_. And tried to convince her…

Of so many…

But the worst being that she didn't love me enough.

I don't believe that… I couldn't possibly…

But underneath all of my selfless intentions, it's there. And I can't pretend that it isn't.

The mere fact that I tried at all… and put her through everything I did…

Feels like an accusation even to me. So, I can't begin to imagine how it felt to her. Or how the hell I'm going to make it up to her.

I only know that I will.

If she'll let me.

_Please wake up, Bella…_

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Do you think she can hear me?"

I don't ask the question to anyone in particular.

I think I already know Charlie's answer; I'm not the only one who's been talking to her. And even Emmett hasn't been completely quiet, proving to me how he wasn't before. When she started to more than just tolerate him…

I suppose maybe I want my father to be the one to answer, and in his way, I suppose he does, by getting up from the chair he's shockingly sat in for the last hour–as nothing more than my father–and checking on her. As a _doctor_.

And as I'm studying his face–his poker face–for any sounds of an unspoken _No _as he looks at her, it's my mother who breaks the silence. "Well, if she can, then she's fallen completely and hopelessly in love with you all over again."

And my answer to that comes without thought. "She never fell out."

But I instantly feel guilty for saying the words out loud. And for meaning them. For knowing how true they are despite everything I did to make them not.

So I say others. "But I don't deserve her. Or her love."

And then Charlie reaches over her and grabs my hand just as I start to pull it from its gentle grasp around hers, where I know it doesn't deserve to be. "Those questions I asked you earlier… I didn't ask them because I didn't know the answers."

I know the questions he means. And I didn't answer them before, but I do now. "I love her _more_, Charlie. I swear I do."

"Then let her hear _that_, Edward. And nothing else."

_Yes, sir… _"Please wake up, Bella…I have a lot of stupid shit to apologize for. And make up for. And it's going to take me forever… a thousand forevers to even make a dent… and I've already stupidly wasted so much time… so much _precious _time with you...

"Please wake up and kick my ass for that. Please, sweetheart…

"I need you. I need you so much… "

I trail off…

Because I don't know what else to say…

Because _I need you_ feels like everything there is. And everything I should have been telling her every day. Every day that I should have been begging her to stay with me instead of trying to push her away.

Believe me, I know that now...

But it's not all I do...

Because then I hear the most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life.

And I know who I really wanted to answer me before.

Who my question was for.

My _Do you think she can hear me _question and _everything _else I have…

"I know that, you silly boy. I _always_ knew it."

**xx**

**Short again, I know, but it was the right place to end it. I'll try to give more in the next one. I hope whoever is still here will stay for it. And bear with me with everything I'm struggling to give at all right now, here and everywhere else. I promise I'm trying.**

**But one thing I don't have to try to do at all... I LOVE this Charlie. Don't you? **


	23. Chapter 23: Declarations

**One thing before we get started... For my Right There readers... please bear with me. The happy place that is that story is just hard to get to when things are everything but for me. It means too much to me to risk doing it wrong just to give it to you. I hope everyone can understand that.**

**And the way I did this.**

**Chapter Twenty Three: Declarations**

**Bella**

He's here.

I'm not alone or without him.

I don't know where I am exactly, but I know that Edward is here with me. _My _Edward.

He's returned to me. Given himself back to, and given up his irrational fight against.

I can feel it in his gentle touch. His vulnerable and sorrowful grip on my hand, that holds but is afraid to do it too hard.

And I can hear it in his voice…

That with its unpracticed and unrehearsed and _unforced_ declarations of brokenness brought me back from darkness. Carried me through it, with weakness-replaced strength.

I heard the surrender of the first clearly. The absoluteness of it. That, this time, will not shatter or break.

Because I didn't. Was strong enough to not. Stronger than it…

"I need you. I need you so much… "

And stronger than him. "I know that you silly boy. I _always _knew it."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Edward**

There are a million things I want to say to her. A million things I need to… but "I'm so sorry, Bella… so so so so so so sorry… " is the first to flow from my lips to her precious ears.

And a whispered "I know you are" is what she gives back to me when it reaches them. Preciously. And graciously. And then an equally both "I _always _knew that, too."

And it makes me feel even worse, though I didn't know worse was possible. As long as she was in front of me, where I could see her and touch her and… well…

Be given the honor to do either in any way. The second of which I just barely do. My hand still cradles hers, but not in a way that dares to lay claim. Or declare it. Or tell her at all that it thinks it has the right to anymore. Or that I do. Even though that hand that I cradle wears my rings that promised and declared that I always would. _ALWAYS_.

Promises and declarations and claims that she accepted from me. Let me make and give to her. Put _on _her.

And wore proudly once I had. Every day, never once taking them off.

Yet, anyway.

I know that she can. And that they can. Can _still _be taken off. Given back to me. Thrown in my face, even…

If that's what she chooses. Instead of me again. Or me still. _Us_.

The choice is _hers_. It never wasn't. Was NEVER mine at all. To make or take away from her…

And so I wait. For her to make it. And while I do, think of all of those things I want and need to say to her. Those things that I pray I'll have the chance to. That she gives it to me. One more time. For the last.

And lets me have, and keep…

Her. For forever.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I wasn't waiting–just–because I wanted to. Or because I had any audacity to think I had the right to _silently _do so.

I was waiting because she had finally woken up. And that was more important than anything I could say or do. The most important thing of all...

And what had my father's undivided focus and attention. My _doctor _father. Whose hands I trusted with her. And whose knowledge and expertise I depended on. And had faith in. _Unwavering _faith.

That gives me unwavering comfort when he smiles at her. And kisses her cheek. As her _father in law_. Before nodding at me, and telling me with that simple gesture, and a deadly seriousness in his eyes, that he always wants to be. First and foremost.

And a father to a son who would never give up. And never throw away everything he had simply because he couldn't _have _everything anymore.

Not twice, anyway.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

My father wasn't the only person I waited for. Watched with Bella before I would try to tell her and show her that my only want was to watch myself grow old with her.

A happy and healthy her. And a loved more than any person could be. Well...

Any person but me. Because I am loved so much…

_Bella _much. Which is…

The only way it could be described. The only way a person who knows her could understand it, if it could be understood at all.

The only way I could. And do as her eyes flit to me over and over again.

I'm right beside her, I haven't moved, but I'm there patiently. Here…

I sit as patiently and as quietly as I can while Charlie has his time with her. Time he shouldn't have to have. Or have to spend in this way, or for this reason.

I don't listen to the things he says to her… past the _I love you_ that he said first.

I don't feel like I have the right. Because I made him say it. This time, and in the way that he did.

The _heavy _way that he did. With so many layers, so many other emotions, weighing it down.

Worry and fear and devastation…

And the relief that the last didn't come crashing down on him to bury him.

It...

Or trusting me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"It wasn't me," I hear Charlie say, and see his arms raised in declared innocence as he steps back from Bella's bed.

I don't know what he's talking about, but Bella certainly seems to. And says "I know that" in a low whisper. And then "I know exactly who did it."

And I think whatever _it _is must have been done by me because she's looking right at.

So I say "I'm sorry… "

Again.

Because I am for whatever it is. Am for _everything_…

Everything I did to bring us to this horrible place, and everything I said and did before it.

"So sorry… " The words I can't stop repeating keep coming. And may never stop. Because I'll never stop feeling them. And buried alive by.

They're a weight I'll never be able to crawl out from under. Or drag myself away from.

I know that. And I'm more than willing to live with it, but will she be able to? Live with them between us? Always in our path, if she'll go down any with me at all? After she found herself in mine?

Mine that– "I didn't know you were there, Bella… I never would have–"

"Edward, I know that. You don't have to tell me."

"I do, Bella. I have to. Tell you that and so many other things. Different things than I have been… "

"Well, I won't disagree with _that_. Because you're right. Again, _finally_. And because I want to hear them… those other things. Even though I already know them, too."

"You _do _know. I _love _you, Bella. I love you so much… "

"Especially that one."

"I'm so sorry… "

She looks at me for a long moment. And there's a clearness in her eyes that I know I don't deserve, but am so grateful for…

But not only that. That clearness isn't the only thing I see at all. I see an undeniable fog, too. Fog that I don't know what means.

I don't know if it's the kind of fog I shrouded her in this morning with my stupid, careless actions…

Or an entirely different kind. That would also be entirely my fault.

Because nothing that we're shrouded in now isn't. I'm to blame for all of it. Fully responsible for and horrifically ashamed of.

Like I am of _everything _but that I once was smart enough to choose her. And work to prove myself to. So that she would choose me back.

Like I want her to do now. Again.

Will beg her to.

Because I am...

Still me. The me who lives and breathes for her.

And who is still smart enough and willing enough to do the work. Again…

Willing to start from scratch if I have to. From less than. And lower than. And certainly lower than this place where I am. "If I could get down on my knees for you… "

"Careful, my dad is here," she teases softly, "and can _hear _every word you say."

And I can't help but smile at her for it. For a second. Because she's smiling at me. And because "I absolutely would for that, too, Bella. And I don't care who knows it… as long as you do."

She nods, telling me she does, and then tells me with her following sweet-faced silence that she also knows that it wasn't at all what my _if _meant or was about. And that I'd never dare make light of this place I put us in because I couldn't get down on my knees and do something. Or anything. Like thank God–and her–_for_ her. And for my life with. No matter what kind of one I was given the opportunity to have and live.

"I swear I would, Bella," I say, going back. To what I was trying to tell her. Trying to begin to. "And will lay–which I _can _do–at your feet because I can't do anything else. And because I don't deserve to be higher than that anyway. Ever, but certainly not–"

"Edward." She interrupts me with the simple forming of my name on her tongue. And I still mine, because never again will I deny her anything hers wants. Or any part of her that can still want any part of me. "Please stop saying those things. If you truly don't want to hurt me, _please _stop. Because they do. They hurt me so much. They break my heart."

"I don't want to do that…" I tell her, my eyes pleading with her to believe me, "or mean to… hurt or break any part of you... in any way…

"Not now, Bella. Not this time. And not ever again. Not after I came so horribly–TOO horribly–close to doing it in a way I never meant to."

"I know what you _meant _to do, Edward."

"I know you do."

"I knew the whole time."

"I–"

"But what I _didn't _know… what I wasn't sure of… and am still not… is if, in your heart, not your head, you believed you would accomplish it? That it was possible? If you believed, or still do–even though I think you've given up?–that I didn't love you enough to make you fail?"

What she didn't know… still _doesn't _know…

Hurts.

Just like I knew it would. Because I knew she'd ask me. If she said nothing else to me, or asked nothing else of, I knew I'd have to face that. And how much I hurt her by making it something I would.

I said it felt like an accusation before…

But that's not how it feels now coming from her. Her, who didn't accuse me at all, but _asked _me, leaving room for me to give her a heartfelt answer instead of a stupid excuse or defense. One that we both pray, I think, will take the tears from her beautiful, battered, and exhausted eyes.

"No, Bella. How could I?"

"I think that's what I just asked you. Isn't it?"

It is. Of course it is. She just asked it in a different way. A way that I should have answered with no question at all. "Yes. It is. And no… I didn't believe that. In my heart, that I refused to let my stupid, stubborn head listen to at all. Because I knew it would have told it to stop. That it was all pointless. My plan…

"And impossible. And hurting you for nothing, instead of the something I was willing to for. Would only ever have been willing to for… "

"A life without you," she says, so I don't have to, I think, "that you told yourself–your stupid and stubborn head–would be better for me than the one I promised to spend with you."

"Yes… "

"That you had no chance in hell of convincing me to live. No matter how much you hurt me in the one I continued to choose to live day after excruciating day _with _you."

"Y-y-yes," I say again, the agony of hearing that I made anything excruciating for her breaking the single word into pieces. And my heart again, the glue of hope dissolving with the salted shame of my tears.

That through I see dissolve her. "Those better be tears of happiness," she warns, "because there's a new SHEriff in Cullentown, and she won't tolerate any other kind."

_Oh, Bella... my sweet, sweet Bella..._

"A new SHEriff, huh?" I repeat, though I know it's unbelievably and shamefully selfish...

To let her make this moment so easy for me.

And she nods her head with the slightest of movements, but with the fiercest resolve. "Yeah... we had a great one… _man _in charge… the best. For years… but he lost his mind. I mean, went completely batshit crazy… so I had to take over. Pull rank and demote him… for the good of the town."

"I see…" I tell her, and expel a heavy breath, before asking her what I can't not. "And are you a _merciful _SHEriff?"

"_Merciful_?" she repeats, though I know she doesn't need to. She knows what I'm asking her.

And what I don't have the strength to stop myself from needing from her. Or telling her that I do. "Mmm-hmm. _Merciful_."

"Well, he won't be hanged or anything… if that's what you mean."

"What about banished?" I ask next, once again unable to not. "From the town?"

"Never. It's _his _town, after all. And I have complete faith that he'll regain his sensibilities. In fact, I'm already seeing a change."

She shouldn't have to see a change. Because _nothing _should have. Our life was perfect. So far beyond...

And I wish I could find the words to tell her that. How beyond perfect it was because _she _made it.

But, once again, I can only get my mouth to speak one. "I'm sorry for all of the others. More sorry than I could ever tell you."

And I think maybe she's getting tired of hearing it. And I can't blame her for that… because I know it's not good enough. Not–

"I don't want you to tell me you're sorry, Edward. Or keep telling me… I want you to _show _me."

"I will, Bella. I promise I will, if you'll let me."

"I will. In fact, I want you to start right now."

"Right now? Okay… what do you want me to do? Name it. I'll do anything."

"I want you to go home."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I'm not trying to punish Edward. I know he's punishing himself enough.

And I'm not trying to sweep away all of his wrongs, or pretend he didn't commit them…

I'm sending him away to make him _face _them. And sweep them away himself. With help, yes, because he couldn't possibly do it without it…

But with help that won't be mine.

"What?"

"I said I want you to go home, Edward. Right now."

"Right n– I'm not leaving you."

"Yes you are."

"No, Bella, I'm not. Not here. Not like this. Not–"

"Edward... "

"No. You can pull rank with anything else you want, Bella… but not this. I'm NOT leaving you."

"You don't have a choice."

"Yes I do. And I'll be damned if I make another wrong one with you."

"I agree, you will be."

"Then don't ask me to, please."

"I didn't ask you. And I'm not now. Go home, Edward."

"I get it, Bella. I do, believe me. You're trying to punish me. Show me how it felt. How hard it was for you... how hard I made it for you…

"And I'm sorry. With all of my heart, I'm _sorry_ for all of the things I did and said… and I deserve to suffer… in any way you want me to… and will… gladly… in _any _way that will make you happy… but–"

"You think I want you to suffer? That that could ever make me happy?"

"I think you want me to know how it felt."

"No, Edward," I tell him, but not only. Because I want him to understand. "I wouldn't wish that kind of knowledge on anyone. But certainly never, _ever_, on you."

"Then why do you want me to go home? Why are you trying to make me abandon you? By telling me it's what you _want_?"

"_Abandon_? Is that what I did? In your eyes? And to your heart? All of the times I let you order me home?"

"No… "

"No? Are you sure, Edward? Because if it's what you'd be doing by leaving… then it must be what I did. Over and over and over again… "

"No, Bella. You never _wanted _to listen to me. You _never _wanted to leave me."

"No, I didn't."

"But even more than you didn't, you didn't want to take anything away from me, either. Anything else, that hadn't already been. Like my control over something. _Anything_… "

"We know each other, Edward. We understand each other. And we do things for. Things that others might not get, or understand. That, on the surface, may not seem right to someone outside of us.

"Don't punish us for it now by forgetting that. Don't hurt us by forgetting what _us _is."

"I could never forget what us is, Bella. What we are… even if you never let us be again."

"If I never– Are we sure I'm the one with the head injury?"

My question was meant to be playful. To take him away from the murky waters he was treading in, fearful that he'd never be pulled from.

In no way was it meant to _hurt _him…

But hurt him is exactly what it did. He looks like he was punched. Hard. Harder than he was when his beautiful face was marred in my unconscious absence.

And _lower_. In a place where damage isn't as easy to see. May only be visible to someone who looks upon you with untarnishable love in their eyes.

And in a place that takes longer to heal. A place already so beaten… "I'm sorry, Edward. That wasn't… We are _not_ a game to me. Or a joke. Or anything less than _everything_. And that everything… Edward, I'd never trade it for nothing. It's why we're here. Because I wouldn't. No matter how much you were willing to. No matter how hard you tried, and to show me that you loved me enough to."

"You still trust me? Enough to want _us_ to exist? As more than a beautiful story with a tragic ending?"

Trust. He didn't ask me if I still loved him. That answer he has. Knows without asking for it. But trust…

That's something entirely different. And something more fragile. And more easily broken.

And something that he thinks he _has _broken. Even though I'm still in one piece. "Of course I do. You're still you. And I'm still me."

"_I_ hurt _you_."

"Yes, Edward. You did," I agree, because I can't deny that truth. My pounding head would never let me. And my heart won't for both of our sakes. But… "But that elephant isn't the only thing in this room. Or the biggest, or most important."

"What could possibly be bigger or more–"

"_Us_. The I and you it's between."

"You don't look very big right now, sweetheart. And I… well, I've never felt smaller… "

It breaks my heart to hear him say that. That he feels small. My larger than life husband…

But not addressing that…

The _right _way...

Instead of trying to in my own way and believing it would be enough…

Is not a mistake I'll make again. "Separately… after this particular long and hellacious day… I suppose we may not look like much… to an outsider…

"But there aren't any of those in this room. And together… which we _are_… and will always, _always _be… we're bigger than anything. And the most important thing in the world to me."

"How can you say that, Bella? How can you forgive me so easily?"

"Because you love me so easily. And tried to so not. And do so much more than anything else. And because you knowing that you hurt me by trying to do it so selflessly, and do everything _but _hurt me, is killing you inside. And, because it is, and because _I _love _you _more than anything else, is killing me. And that's so much worse than a little knick on the head."

"Bella–"

"If you're small, then it's a little knick."

"And if I said I was a giant?"

"Well, I'm not a doctor, so…"

"So, maybe we should ask my dad."

I look to Carlisle, who still hasn't left the room, pulling extra duty, I think, to try to make up for when he pulled none, and will him to help me. And _not _to help Edward make his point. A point that Esme, also still here, and now squeezing her husband's arm, agrees isn't one that needs to be sharpened.

"Your dad is off duty," Carlisle answers with an acquiescent sigh, "and therefore, only present in _Dad _capacity. And _man_, who, after thirty plus years of marriage, has learned when to let something go, and keep his too often thinks-it-knows-everything mouth shut."

"But you _do _know–" Edward starts.

Before I stop him, the only way I think I can. "Edward, the little knick hurts. And I'm tired, and want you to go home so that I can sleep."

And _did_. "Is it okay that she wants to sleep?" he asks his father, his off duty declaration no longer heard.

And when he nods his head at his son, is issued an order. "She's in pain, get up and give her something to take it away!"

An order _I _address. "Edward, I really just want to sleep."

But that he doesn't hear clearly. "Then sleep, sweetheart. I won't make a sound, I promise. And I'll be right here when you wake up."

"You'll be at home, Edward. Waking up in our bed."

"You didn't win that argument, Bella. And I won't let you exhaust yourself by still trying to for nothing. I'm _not _leaving, and that's the end of it."

"There's no ending, Edward. Not for us. And tomorrow, or whenever they let me go home, I want to see a clear path for us to keep going on."

"There will be, Bella. I swear–"

"And I don't want to have to clear it myself so that I can."

"I don't understand what–"

"You made a mess, Edward. And you're going to clean it up. Because I don't want to go home to that. I _won't _go home to it."

He looks at me as if he still doesn't understand. For a moment…

But then I see the clarity strike him. "Of course you won't. I'll call someone… a cleaning service or something. It–"

"Have I ever done that? Called strangers to come into our home and clean up after us? Clean up our messes? Or anything at all? Even though our home is big enough to house an army?"

"No. You never have. And you never would."

"I want you to do the work, Edward. Make our home beautiful again, like it was... like I worked every day to keep it for you. Happily."

He gets it. He understands. And I see the willingness. To do anything for me. _Everything_...

But "I don't think I can, Bella. Not by myself. Not because I wouldn't for you, but–"

"Did you hear her say _by yourself_, Edward?" my father asks him, getting up from the chair he was sitting in. "Did anyone hear that? Because I know I didn't."

"I absolutely did _not_ hear that," Esme answers, getting up as well. "What about you, Carlisle? Did you hear it?"

"No," he says, and stands. And would have done both, I think, even without his wife's stern warning glare.

That resembles the one I give Emmett, who has spent his day here, too. And knows, without a doubt, where he is spending his night. "There's nothing wrong with my ears... "

Though he doesn't know he'll be arriving late. "You can meet them there in a little while," I tell him, just as he leans down, with the intent, I think, to give my cheek a goodbye–and goodnight–kiss.

That instead is a "Shit" against it.

"You're in deep," I tell him now, telling him he doesn't misunderstand a thing.

"I didn't touch The Holy Jaw!" he declares. "Certainly that's worth something? Some mercy?"

And maybe it is...

But he'll have to wait to find out.

Because Edward is waiting for his kiss goodnight. So that he can go home and clear the path for the lifetime of the ones waiting for him.

The ones he'll do anything now to have.


	24. Chapter 24: Unobstructed Paths

**Chapter Twenty Four: Unobstructed Paths**

**Bella**

"Why did you hit him?"

"Why didn't you tell me what was going on with him?"

"I was handling what was going on with him. Now, answer my question."

"This is you handling it? You're lying in a hospital bed, Bella. One that you were unconscious in for hours. You have a concussion and a horrible gash on your head that–"

"That could be much worse, but isn't."

"Don't try to defend him, Bella. His actions–"

"Were a bit childish, but not intentional. Not in this way. You know that."

"You should have told me."

"Emmett, telling you… or my dad… or anyone… would have felt to me like I was giving up. Admitting defeat. Unsurpassable injury and weakness. And that my marriage… my life's very breath… my bond with my husband… the love between us… wasn't strong enough to stand on its own anymore. And fight. And _win_."

"Or, Bella… it could have just said 'My husband is being an ass and needs his kicked, would you help me out with that?'."

"I'm fully aware that that's your stance on the situation. Though you _weren't _asked to take one."

"But I _was_, Bella. You didn't call me for help… but Edward did."

"Hurting him wasn't helping him, Emmett."

"Neither was him hurting you."

Damn it. And him.

Because this little scolding certainly didn't go as planned…

"Don't think you're off the hook just because you made a valid point."

"No, I know I'm not. But I can live with that, because I can think of much worse things than being in trouble with you, Mrs. Cullen."

I'd smack those wiggling eyebrows of his right off of his face if I had the energy. And if I wasn't grateful for the light, playful reprieve.

"You'll _know _much worse things when I tell Edward you said that."

"Oh, _now _you want to tattle?"

"Not want to. WILL."

"And I accept that. Because I _deserve _it."

How did he twist things around on me again? "I _hear _you."

"Just making sure."

"Yeah. And now that you have–"

"Get out of here and go help my friend?"

"Yes. _Please_."

"Of course I will, Bella. You only had to ask."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"Having second thoughts about that wrath?" I ask my father in law as he takes in the mess mine left in its wake.

And he doesn't answer me for a while, leaving me to take in how hard it is for him to choose what that answer will be.

And is. "No." Despite what it should have been instead.

What I wish I could climb inside of him and unleash on me for him.

And for Bella. The beautiful woman we both love more than anything and would do _anything _for.

Or, in Charlie's case at this moment, as he stares down at his daughter's blood dried into the rug beneath his feet, _not _do.

"But know that there's no three strikes here, Edward. This is the only one you get."

"There will never be another, Charlie, I promise you."

And I don't wait for him to answer or respond this time. Because I don't expect my words to be enough to elicit another one from him.

And spring myself into action instead. Because I'm going to do whatever I can to clean up this mess I made.

Because I was given a second chance not to screw up. A second chance to do things right.

A second chance to have the _perfect _life. By my sweet, beautiful, perfect wife. Who doesn't think she'd be wasting a single second of her precious by spending it with me.

Me, who will never let her.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Are you ever going to talk to me again?"

"I strongly considered telling you to get out of my house."

"Well, thanks for not."

"I didn't not say it because I didn't want it."

"Why, then?"

"Because I thought you were here to _help_. And what I need help with is for Bella, so I set my personal desires aside."

"I'm sorry, Edward."

"I don't need your sorrow, Rose. And I'm the _last _person you should be apologizing to."

"I think you're the first. And I mean it, I truly am sorry for the way I–"

"Treated my wife? Because unless that's what you were going to say, I don't want to hear it."

"I was going to say for the way I treated _you_. By not treating you like anything. Or, more accurately, like the brother I love with all of my heart."

"You mean your selfish heart? And reprehensibly jealous?"

"Yeah, that one."

"You have issues, Rose."

"I know."

"You had everything… but a piece of expensive jewelry on your finger. And because you couldn't have that one thing, you threw the everything away. And then accused it of betraying you in some way. And my wife of betraying me."

"You know it wasn't really about her, Edward. I was hurt and angry and just…"

"Your hurt and anger was self inflicted."

"I know that."

"And it was wrong to twist it around and hurt anyone else with it."

"I know that, too!"

"Good. So do I. Now, will you get back to helping, please? Because there's nothing I won't do to take all of mine back."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Don't you think it's about time for you to get some sleep?"

I don't look at Charlie as I answer him. "I can't sleep without her next to me."

Because I can't take my eyes off of Bella.

Those reminders she tried to give me… and give me something back with…

Those gifts…

Those moments with her in my arms…

Or by my side…

Or standing strong behind me…

I just can't look away from them. Because I tried to make them cease to exist. Make the ones I'm looking at be some of the last. Somethings in the past instead of the present and future.

And, because I did, she isn't here. Not in my arms, and not by my side, and not standing strong at all, behind me or anywhere near.

"Yeah… and I'm sorry you both had to be put through so much pain today for you to come to that realization."

"With all of my heart, Charlie, so am I. And I only wish that today was the only day that we were. The only day that she was… and, more than anything, that she was never at all on any."

"And I wish, for both of you, that I could grant you those, Edward… but I don't have that power, unfortunately. So, I'll just give you this… Never forget how much you wish those things. Or what that sorrow feels like because your wishing them can't ever bring them to you. But don't let the remembering get in the way of what _will _come to you. _Who _will. On her own. As soon as anyone will let her. And probably even _before_…

"_Don't_ let it, Son. Because, though she'd clear even the most insurmountable obstacle-laden path to get to you, and yes, _even _the one she told you to clear today, she'll get to you–to that place she belongs–faster if there's nothing in her way."

"I won't, Charlie. On everything that is sacred to me, I promise I won't. Or ever forget that you weren't."

"In her way?" he asks. "To get to you? Oh, Edward… " He shakes his head and picks up a now frameless photograph from the dining room table. The place where they're temporarily spread out on display until the stores open in the morning, at which time my mother will right this of my many wrongs against my wife and our perfect life.

I know what the image is that he holds in his hand… it's he and I sitting on the loveseat in his living room. He and I and _Bella_, I should say. Sort of… because as soon as Bella got up from it to go into the kitchen to get us a couple of beers, he rushed from his favorite chair to take her place. Only to make her laugh, of course… a sound he loves just as much as I do.

And laugh she did when she came back… for about a half of a second…

Before she set down our beers with a "Hmph!" and a "Oh, no you don't, Papa Smitten!" and a "He's MINE!" and put him in a WWF-worthy fake sleeper hold and then climbed over his then also WWF-worthy fake unconscious form to get to me. A moment that Sue, her camera always within her reach, captured in all of its adorable and hilarious glory.

And that he now moves from under his gaze to under mine as he finishes his response to my declaration. "...I had my one and only strike that day. And, I promise you… I'm not fool enough to ever try it again."

"Neither am I, Charlie…" I whisper more to myself than his retreating from me–and still as trusting as ever _in_ me–form.

And I don't know if he heard me or not, but he makes sure I hear him. "Look at her, Edward. Look at her long and hard. _Your _girl. And then, no matter how hard it is to because you can't, get some sleep… because tomorrow she'll be where you _can _see her. And reach her, with nothing blocking your way. And I'm guessing you might want to be able to stay awake for that."

And if ever Charlie Swan was wrong about anything, it's now…

Because "There's no _might _about it, Charlie."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

Last night was the longest night of my life. But despite the painful fact that it was, and why it was, I did finally manage to fall asleep. With my head on _Bella's _pillows, instead of my own. And with dreams of returning to a time when _I_would again be her favorite pillow, and chosen without thought over any of the many feather-filled ones that top our bed.

I know she never made the choice that I wouldn't be, and my ceasing to be was my fault and mine alone, because I took that choice away from her…

But that's not a pain I'll ever again inflict on either of us.

Never again will I take my wife's choices away, or make them for her, unless her very existence depends on it. And _not _her existence as the center of my world. If I am honored and blessed enough for her to choose to be it, _still_, then never again will I dishonor her by telling her that she can't.

I have a lot to make up for, and a lot to make up_ to her_, and a lot of churned up ground to cover… level and smooth… replant beauty and serenity and peace in… so that she never sees anything but before her, or finds anything but beneath her fearless and trusting feet…

And I may not live long enough to do all that she deserves…

Or earn her forgiveness, though she's already given it. Because, since the day she became my wife, she's never denied me anything...

But I swear… _vow_… that I'll die _still_ trying to.

And to be worthy of it.

And her. Who I know will still be by my side.

Because _that _is what we promised each other. The day we said _our _vows…

Our vows that I let my pain, anger, and shame make me forget.

Try to void…

_For_ her.

Who didn't let me.

Because she meant them. EVERY word of them… with all of her sweet, beautiful, and perfect heart. That though I broke over and over and over again…

She still wants me to have. And keep.

And still trusts me to. And to do the right thing with it. Even after I've done so much wrong.

She _still _believes in me. And has faith in. _Complete_, she even said. And even knowing that my head was on every way but straight.

Like it so stupidly still is…

Because I'm awake. And am just lying here breathing in the sweet scent of her on her pillows…

When I could be breathing in her. And looking at her beautiful face. And watching her lips form into a beautiful smile when she sees mine. Because they never didn't… even when I pretended I didn't want to see it.

Something she'd never do. Never deceive me or herself so that she could.

And sure as hell never waste the time to. Our time.

That I'm DONE wasting.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

I'm surprised when I wake up alone in my hospital room. Surprised that Edward isn't beside me, gently holding my hand, and tracing the unbroken bands of promises on my finger. Or watching me sleep with guilt-ridden and sorrowful and tired eyes…

And, after I replay the events–the ones I can remember, anyway–of yesterday in my head, I'm disappointed, too. But not in him. Not in him at all. Because I know that the reason I didn't open my eyes to his beautiful face was because I wouldn't let myself. I _wouldn't _let him stay with me last night.

And even guilted him into leaving me. Sort of…

Because it was the only way I could stop myself from begging him not to.

The reason I gave him was a good one. And a solid. And a true to an extent…

I really _didn't _want to go home and see us broken into pieces...

But I would have done it. And would have cleaned up his lost battle. Put us–the victors, and the only possible for me–back together with pride and honor. Just for having had the chance to. The chance to do anything…

Just because I was alive. Which is all I will ever have to be to love Edward. And do anything and everything I can to make him know that. And that I'll never stop.

The last of which I'm confident he knows. And, now, at least, how truly twisted it was for him to think anything he could do would ever change that.

Or, if he really thought about it, make me want him to leave me, no matter what I said.

He thinks what happened yesterday, what he did, what was left waiting in our home, was too much for me to want to _go _home to. And it's my fault that he does.

But only because I needed to know how fragile he really is. And how broken. On the inside.

In the place where he's always been so strong.

The strongest.

And known without a single doubt that we…

As long as _we _were alive…

Were inseparable.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

"Why the hell didn't anyone wake me up?!"

I thought I'd only wasted a few minutes of this morning. But when I rolled over and glanced at the clock on Bella's bedside table, my heart fell. Because I knew she was already long awake, and I still wasn't there to tell her how happy I was to have the mere chance to so much as see her on this new day, let alone hopefully get to spend this night watching her sleep beside me. IF that's what she chooses, and if she's well enough and strong enough for me to take her home.

Of course, I have to get _to _the hospital before I can know either.

"Well, good morning to you, too, dear."

"I don't have time for pleasantries, Mom, Bella is surely awake and all alone and I should have been there over an hour ago!"

"To say _Good morning_, you mean?"

"To _her_, yes!"

"You know, a mother with thinner skin would be hurt by that…"

"Good morning, _Mother_."

"Thank you. Now, go shave while I make your breakfast. If I hadn't spent the last hour with those photographs of the two of you, I'd surely have forgotten how handsome you are."

"You fixed them?" I ask her, ignoring her suggestion. The very one I made to myself before I decided it would have to wait because I wouldn't make Bella to do it.

"Yes, Charlie and I did it together. They're all reframed and on lovely display. We didn't know exactly how Bella had them, of course, but we can move them around if you remember…"

I remember exactly where _one _was.

The _last _one.

The one that I– "Remember, Edward… _nothing_."

I tear my eyes from the beauty I rushed in here to see. See where I should have left it. And never moved it from. And never altered…

Like the most beautiful thing in the world…

And look into her father's eyes. So that he knows how much I value his advice. And his knowledge. And his faith in me.

And, most of all, his little girl. "I remember, Charlie… but remembering won't take me to her."

"No…" he says. "I suppose not." And then he smiles at me. "But I will."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

More than an hour has passed and Edward still isn't here. And surprise and disappointment start to turn. And twist into something else. Something else that tells me maybe I made a mistake.

By telling Edward to go home and clear my path, maybe I paved his. To retreat on. And away from me again.

His emotions were genuine yesterday. His pain, his sorrow, his guilt, and his regret…

But this is today. A new. And after a night without me in front of him or close enough to remind him…

How wrong _without _would be…

Maybe he's– "Bella, I'm so sorry!"

Still _my _Edward.

"Good morning."

"Good morning. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. Earlier. I–"

"Don't have to be sorry. Because you're here now."

His loving and thankful gaze tells me he always will be. And never won't be again. And I give him a smile I hope he never forgets.

And then give my father another. "Good morning, Dad."

Because I was stupid to worry even for a second…

Because he's here now, too.

Because he was _there _when I wasn't.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

In that place I belong.

And with the man I belong to.

Making sure he remembered…

What he _always _knew.


	25. Chapter 25: Selfless

**Chapter Twenty Five: Selfless**

**Edward**

"Thank you, Edward."

Thank you? "What could you possibly have to thank me for, Bella?"

"For making everything beautiful."

"_You_ made everything beautiful. And I ruined it. Destroyed it… and us..."

"Destroyed is a strong word, Edward. And not one that will ever describe us in any way. You made a little bit of a mess, that's all. And when you realized that you had, and how wrong it was for us, you cleaned it up. And that is what thank you is for."

I don't miss the gentle clearing of Charlie's throat the second I open my mouth to respond to my wife's gracious take on my recent actions and behavior. And, though I don't agree with it, I don't argue it. Or with her. Not now.

And I don't take all of the credit. "I had help."

She smiles at that, and then at her father, and then at me again. Always at me…

And then settles herself on the couch with a contented sigh.

And with a, I think pride-filled, "Thank you for that, too."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**...**

**Bella**

"Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything else? Another blanket? More pillows? Something different to drink? How about–"

"You could get me my husband."

"I'm here, Bella, I promise. And I never won't be again."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"And I'll kiss the ground under your feet everyday for the rest of my life because you will, but I swear you don't have to. I'll never again try to be anywhere else."

"You don't have to swear anything to me, Edward. I know when your heart is in your words. I heard years worth of them before I heard any other kind."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry…"

"I know you are."

"I just wanted you to have everything. And nothing less than. And–"

"Do you still?"

"Yes. I do. But not that way that I thought was giving it to you. Would give it to you…"

"Good, because that way could never. Because everything… my everything… begins and ends with you. And I want you to know that again, like you used to. And be proud of it. And revel in it. And even be cocky about it, again, like you _used to_."

"I don't know if I can do that, Bella. I might not ever be able to give that part of me back to you."

He doesn't mean it in a literal physical sense. I know that. Even though the 'literal' hurts and haunts him…

And hurt us for a while… because it haunted the kind of 'complete' life he wants us to share but thinks we can't… because of what he thinks he can't...

But I can't help but think, that for him, the literal and the non are hopelessly intertwined. And while that was once no problem at all, and something I embraced, and certainly let him embrace… "I'm not asking you to be, or give me, something you're not, Edward. I'm just asking you to be _you_. The man who stole my heart, even though I tried to lock it away, and hide it from you."

"You hid it in plain sight, Bella. And even though figuring out how to get it open was the greatest struggle of my at that point life, reaching out and snatching it away from you... _wasn't_."

_That's much better, baby…_

"Because, I think, no matter what you told yourself, or me, you _wanted_ me to."

_Much, MUCH better._ "Do you know what I want you to do now?"

"No. I wish I did."

"I want you to relax. To let yourself. And not think at all, about anything, but how you could best do that. And where. Where you'd be the most comfortable. And cocky, even, if you were so inclined to be. Naturally, I mean."

I glance away from him, my eyes settling on his favorite leather chair, that he so often sat in like the cocky king of this castle that he was, with his queen in his lap, or at his feet, or on her knees between them… embracing completely _everything_ that he was…

But he doesn't follow them. With his own or any other part of himself. And when he moves, it isn't to that favorite chair. He wheels the one he's miserably _un_comfortable in into the best position to get out of it and onto the couch next to me.

Because comfortable...

No matter what else we are or are feeling…

Means exactly the same thing to both of us.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Edward**

I spent every conscious moment last night agonizing because Bella wasn't beside me. Because I couldn't touch her, or smell her, except on her pillows, and because I couldn't see her next to me. Looking at me with her beautiful deep brown love-filled eyes, or resting them behind her silky closed lids.

I prayed for another moment like this with her, the lifetime of them that I never doubted she wanted to give me.

And those prayers were answered. She's next to me. I can see her and smell her and feel her in all of her wondrous perfection…

But with those answered prayers in my arms is something else. Something that's painful and hard to embrace.

Bella fell asleep while we were still sitting on the couch. And the fact that she did is killing me.

A year ago that wouldn't have been the case. It wouldn't have killed me or caused me any pain at all. It would have made me smile. And I would have lifted her into my arms with that smile on my face and carried her still sleeping up the climbing towards heaven stairs and to our bed.

But I can't do that now. Even though the bed we share now is down here instead of up there, near instead of far, for me… I still can't.

I can't let her relax. Or be comfortable. Because I can't lift her into my arms and carry her anywhere. They're strong enough… but they're not all I need to do it. And no matter how hard I've prayed for what I do need, need and want back… those prayers weren't answered.

And that's killing me. "Bella… wake up, sweetheart."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

I didn't sleep much again last night… even though I had everything...

Because a man who loses a priceless treasure and then has it given back to him–watches it all but run back to him–doesn't want to close his eyes when he can see it anywhere near him. He doesn't want his arms to fall slack under the weight of slumber when they can revel consciously in and under the weight of its very pricelessness.

That man wants to see and feel it all, and never stop doing either, even for function-necessary sleep.

Bella reclaimed her favorite pillow. Laid her head on my chest and her heart in my hands the second I stopped moving. And did it with another gracious _Thank you_ that I didn't deserve. Because losing that priceless treasure was in every way _my_ fault. And she knows it was. Knows that I was careless, knows that I was stupid, and knows that I was wrong to be both. And still be, no matter how many times and how many ways she told me I was and to stop.

She knows…

But she won't punish me for any of it. Not intentionally, anyway. Her tears that soaked my t-shirt within minutes of her head settling on it weren't meant to punish. They weren't meant to do anything to me at all. They were merely proof of how much I truly mean to her. How deep her love for me really is. And how deeply hurt she was that I tried to throw it back at her unappreciated, or away the same.

My wife cried in my arms simply because I let her be in them again. Simply because they wrapped around her and held her instead of pushed her away from me. And simply because they're mine.

She cried and she cried and she cried…

And it anything but simply broke me.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"Good morning," Bella whispers, as her fingertips do the same over my cheeks.

"Good morning," I tell her, and gently sweep her hair back and away from her beautiful face.

It isn't our first interaction of this day…

There were others before it. Silent ones.

I knew the moment she woke up… the _second_… because the very second she did she pressed herself against me, into me, and my heart again, for the mere fact that she could. And because she needed to feel that solidity. Acknowledge it, and its importance to her. _My_ importance to her. That, if I was blind, I couldn't have not seen in her eyes and on her face when she lifted them both to where I could see them.

I was already looking at her… the pure magnificence of all of her… no matter what parts of her I couldn't see… but seeing what she was to me reflected back _at_ me… even though I'd seen it thousands of times before… it was as powerful as the first time I ever did. As powerful and a million times more.

And she knew it. Saw it on my face with absolute clarity. And smiled at me with… with… well, there are no words for what was in that smile, or what it was to me. None at all that would do it justice, or the honor she bestowed upon me by giving it to me.

I merely stared at her after that. Stared with awe and humility, stared with shame and regret, praying that she'd see them all in my eyes. And the love I'd tried to hide from her for months… the in hers for me pride… that sent tears down her cheeks again, because she did see it all. Tears that I caught in my hands instead of letting them fall to my shirt again. So that they'd never dry up, and would instead seep into me, through my skin and into my blood, becoming a part of what I need to live and couldn't for a single moment live without.

"You look tired," she says now, the corners of her mouth turning downward as her fingertips move upward to ghost over the skin under my eyes. "I hope that isn't because of me."

"I'm okay, Bella," I tell her. "So much better than okay. And that _is_ because of you."

"Don't give me all of the credit, Edward, you earned some of it. A lot of it, if so much better is how you feel."

"Ceasing to act like a fool isn't earning anything, Bella. And hurting you so dangerously… after every other way that I had already… and stopping only _after_ I did so badly…

"God, Bella, don't tell me I earned anything. Don't tell me I deserve this so much better that I feel. Or the right to look at you, or to touch you, or to be blessed by your forgiveness, that I know you give with your whole heart… your whole _extraordinary_ heart… that I–"

"Earned a long time ago. And can't _un_earn from me, or ever return to me."

"I don't want to return it to you. Knowing I don't deserve to keep it isn't the same as wanting to give it back to you or ever let it go at all. I'm not that selfless, Bella. I tried to be, but–"

She puts her fingers to my lips, telling me without a word from her own that she doesn't want to go backwards. Doesn't want me to carry her there, where everything hurt and nothing felt good.

And I listen this time. I hear what she needs me to. And then feel, because she sits up on her knees and lifts my hand, and, after kissing my open palm, lays it over her heart. Her _extraordinary_ heart… that I feel beating for me...

Fighting for, and for us…

So strong and so effortlessly so…

"I love you, Edward. You got your way. Your _selfish_ way. Because that way…

"Is the one I couldn't resist giving you. And couldn't not give you. Because giving it to you… letting you have it… knowing you'd never let it go once you did…

"Was letting myself have _everything_. That, I feel I should point out, this one time and this one time only… I _never_ did a thing to earn."

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

**Bella**

Edward hasn't stopped smiling at me since I turned the 'undeserved and unearned' tables on him.

Because, no matter what recent truths of his own he's struggling with accepting, and letting us move through and past, so that they aren't true anymore at all, I took him back to my first.

And one that not even he, at his most selfless, could argue with or deny.

All of the effort he once put forth… all of the change he willingly underwent… all of the newly-and-shockingly-capable-of sweetness he threw my way… and promises of a lifetime of if I'd only accept it from him…

Everything he gave me every single day until I gave in…

Was far more than I deserved. And everything I'd done anything and everything _but_ earn from him.

I gave him _nothing_. And certainly no reason for him to give, or want to give, me anything. I wasn't kind or sweet to him. And if I was anything, I was the epitome of the opposite of both. I was cynical and untrusting. I was snarky and cruel. And, though by no means unaffected by his charms, or his many gifts of sweetness, I was blatantly unappreciative. _To him_.

He had no reason to love me. And, once he knew without a doubt that he couldn't in any way easily 'have' me, in a physical sense or otherwise, no reason to even waste his time wanting me.

I didn't deserve any of it. And sure as hell didn't earn it. And he knows it.

All of that changed, of course… and I gave him everything I could and would continue to forever… and did and would with honor… and all of the selfless love I had inside of me...

But it's not how we started.

So, this morning, when we were about to embark on a fresh of sorts…

I reminded him.

And of how he never held it against me.

And after finally getting to hold everything he fought for in his hands…

He did nothing but nurture and treasure it. With his whole _selfless_ heart.

**xx**

**I know it's short... but this is the right place to stop. Standing strong on the first solid stepping stone of their fresh start of sorts path. I hope you get that, even if you don't like it.**

**And thank you for your continued patience with me. And loyalty to. xo**


	26. Chapter 26:Returning to Beautiful Normal

**Hi there! I just want to address one thing before we get to what you're here for (hopefully there are still a few of you?)... About some things said in the last chapter, that some of you seemed confused about based on your reviews... It's taken me forever and a day to get here, so the things you may have forgotten are completely my fault, I'm sure, but there have been _many_ mentions of how Bella didn't make things easy for Edward in the beginning. She wasn't necessarily cruel, but she made him work for the right to call her his, and earn all of the trust and respect she gives him. **

**And now that I've thrown that little reminder at you, all I have left to say is... If Don DeLillo can write a whole book about a man's quest to get a haircut, then certainly I can write a chapter about it, right? ;)**

**.**

**Chapter Twenty Six: Returning to Beautiful Normal**

**Edward**

Though it's been days since we brought her home from the hospital and she's feeling completely like her perfect self again, Bella still hasn't gone back to work. Which means she's been in my sight at nearly every moment. And is at this one, and bent over our massive tub when I wheel myself into our bathroom. She's wearing only a t-shirt–one of her own, and a perfectly fitted–and panties, and, whether my body is capable of expression or not, I'm instantly and humbly aroused.

Her perfection is astounding. She's in as natural of a state as she could be, her hair still tousled and tangled from sleep, and what she did sleep in still hugging her still too thin but almost back to the perfect way I remember it body. Well, except for the pants she slept in, which I see folded on the counter to her right, but don't in any way focus on for more than a second since she is, as I said, bent over our tub. _If only I could get out of this chair…_

She turns to look at me after a moment, sensing my presence, I assume, though I'm sure she didn't hear its arrival. Or _feel_, like she would have if I had been able to get up, and smiles. "I shaved my legs, and I was just making sure the tub was clean and hair-free and ready for you."

"I'd like to inspect your work," I tell her, trying to keep my expression–the one on my face, since I don't have to try to compose or contain any of my others–neutral. "If you don't mind."

She glances back at the tub for a brief second before her for-me smile returns to her lips. And total and complete understanding fills her brain. "Certainly not, Mr. Cullen," she says, and steps away from the bathtub, as if to clear the path for me to get close enough to it to, as I said, inspect it.

I see her trying her best to look innocent as I cock my head and raise a single brow at her and her standing still position near the vanity, and it takes everything I have not to laugh. As much as part of me desperately wants her to punish me for everything I've done to us, the part of me that appreciates that she's not and won't, and has let us return so easily to playful, is overjoyed. Because, behind her playfully innocent expression, I know that she absolutely is.

"Just going to stay there, are you?" I ask her, and she feigns confusion for a moment, but then gives it up quickly with an anything but playful "Hell no" and walks to stand in front of my chair.

"You could have," I tell her. "I was certainly willing to move to get to what I wanted. Mountains, if I had to..."

"You never have to tell me that for me to know it, Edward. And, on my _dream_ life, will never have to do it again."

I'm tempted to tell her to make me, instead of the way she's making everything so easy for me, but I don't say the words. And don't say any at all, actually, as I reach forward and touch her. Run my hands slowly and appreciatively up and down her perfect and perfectly smooth legs.

"Do I pass?" she asks after a moment, with goosebumps covering every perfect inch of her from my simple touch.

"As always, Mrs. Cullen," I answer, looking up into her loving and unnecessarily hopeful eyes, "you have far exceeded my expectations in every way."

"And I am beyond proud to have," she declares, "now and for that always, because I know how high they are, though they may not quite have _always_ been..."

"That's not true," I defend, putting a spin on 'always', "because the way I see things, my eyes _upward_, always, since the day I laid them on you, expectations were things I was in complete ignorance of the extraordinary possibilities of until you taught me about them. And the sheer magnificent beauty of, when set at great heights."

"I could hardly have taught you to have them, Mr. Cullen, when I barely so much as gave you the time of day, let alone a lesson in anything."

"You taught me to have them simply by existing, Bella. To give me everything or nothing, the latter of which I prefer not to focus on, if you don't mind."

"I don't."

"Good."

"And do want to know… what _would_ you like to focus on?"

"The everything, of course."

"Good. Too. Because I like the everything."

Her eyes are full of love as she looks at me, and her hands are alive with it as they move through my too-long hair. And this time I do focus on the latter, because I want the first to be as happy and in love as I can make them. "Would you do something for me, Bella?"

"Of course I would. Anything."

"Would you cut my hair?"

It's not something I ever knew she could do, and just as well as anyone could, until one day during my 'courting' of her, and a visit to her dad's, when Sue was complaining that Charlie was starting to look like a mountain man, because he refused to get a haircut. His regular barber, and the only one in Forks, had retired and he refused to go to a woman's salon.

"You only had to ask, Dad," Bella had said, and jumped right up and disappeared out of the room.

She came back a couple of minutes later with a towel, a comb, a pair of scissors, and a set of clippers in her hands, and told him to get his butt in the kitchen and sit down. I was shocked at his eagerness to accept and comply with her order, and jumped up to follow them, Sue practically dancing with joy beside me.

I learned then that Bella had been the one to cut his hair for years, having gone with him to the barber shop her entire childhood, and obviously paying attention instead of playing while she waited, like any other child would probably have done. It was only after she'd moved away from home that he'd had to return to that shop, and then, only until its only barber hung up his tools and put a forever closed sign on the door.

I was impressed and amazed as I watched her, like I was with everything else she ever did, and a few weeks later, asked her if she would cut mine, waiting those few weeks only because at the time I'd just had mine cut.

"No way in hell," she'd told me. "I am not cutting Edward Cullen's hair."

"Why not?" I'd asked her. "You cut your dad's, and it looked great." .

"He's not _you_," she said, as if I was supposed to understand that. And accept it, which, even if I kind of did the first, or what she meant by it, anyway, I wasn't going to do the second. And no, not just because I wanted to feel her hands in my hair. Which I did shamelessly…

"Neither am I, Bella. Not the me you think I am, anyway. I probably wouldn't be asking you if I was."

"You don't want me to cut your hair."

"Yes, I do. And have ever since I watched you cut your dad's. And have been cursing it every day for not growing faster."

"Don't you have a regular person who always does it?"

"Yes."

"Man or woman?" she asked after a pensive moment, and I tried to fight my smile at her wanting to know.

But secretly happy that she did aside, I didn't want to answer her question, especially when she was looking at me in the assuming–and right to be–way that she was. But lying to her certainly wasn't going to help me in my quest to get her to see me differently, so... "Woman."

"One you've slept with?" she surprised me by asking next.

But what also surprised me was that she didn't look assuming, as she had just seconds before, and, unless I was seeing things, looked, instead, hopeful that my answer would be no.

Which, thankfully, it honestly was. "No. Definitely not."

That time I was sure I saw her try to hide a smile, but her questions kept coming. "Not pretty?"

And I would answer any she asked, because her asking me anything told me she cared. Or something. "No, she is, but I'm… particular."

She didn't bother trying to hide anything that time, but I'd earned what she didn't, and had done it very publicly, so I took it like a man. And clarified the kind I'd been. "I more had a preference for Supermodels. Or an actress on occasion, if she looked like one."

"Ah, of course. A _normal_ girl would certainly be beneath your standards. How stupid of me."

Maybe full disclosure wasn't the best way to go after all…

But I wasn't going to give up that easily, or let her think what she was thinking. "My standards had no depth, Bella. They were shallow and superficial, just like most of the women, or 'girls', who fit perfectly into the mold of them, which I long since have thrown away, along with any desire to ever re-aquire them. Because I think _normal_ is BEAUTIFUL, and know that it's all I'll ever want now."

"What are you doing with me, Edward Cullen?" she asked, pulling no punches whatsoever, just as the waiter brought the check.

He made to move away quickly, assuming his arrival with it at just that moment, though it had been requested by me moments before, was the poorest possible timing. I put up a hand, telling him it was alright, and reached into my pocket for my credit card as he laid the book on the table.

"Well, at the moment," I started, stopping briefly when Bella opened it and shook her head at the exorbitant price of our dinner, "I'm trying to get you to cut my hair."

Our waiter needed to work on his poker face, but I gave no further thought to that as he quickly left the table, what he wanted securely in his hands. "Though I do admit to having a bit of an ulterior motive in that."

"Which is?" she asked, bothering not at all with a poker face, and picking up the fork from her dessert plate, I was pretty sure to stab me with if I answered the way she expected me to.

"To save me three hundred bucks," I said with a smile, momentarily confusing her. "Plus a tip."

Her confusion dissipated quickly, though she didn't put down the fork. "You pay three hundred dollars for a _haircut_?"

"Every month, yes."

"I should stab you with this fork just for that! Are you stupid?"

"Well, I'm trying not to be anymore… but you won't say yes and help me…"

She eyed my hair and a snarky smile touched her mouth before it opened again. "It's not even that great. Your haircut. And certainly not better than one I could give you."

"Do I get any points for being smart enough to know that?" I asked her. "You know, since I did ask you to–"

"Maybe," she said, and finally put her fork down. "One, perhaps, might be in order. That is, if you don't lose it when you actually answer my question."

"What am I doing with you?" I asked, knowing she really wanted, or, perhaps, needed, a completely honest answer from me to that question before she gave me anything, or certainly did, or agreed to do, anything for me.

"Yes."

"Well, Bella, I don't know what kind of answer you're expecting… or that will earn me any points, or not lose the few I may have already, but I only have one."

"And that is?"

"That I want to do everything with you."

I knew she could have taken my declaration wrong, but as she looked at me, I knew she hadn't, no matter what she said to it. "You're going to have to do a lot more than take me to ridiculously overpriced and overrated restaurants to get that privilege, Edward Cullen."

"All I want is the chance to."

"And a free haircut."

"It doesn't have to be free, you can charge me. Any price. A thousand dollars if you want. Or a–"

"Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of you trying to save three hundred bucks?"

"I don't really care about the money, Bella… and, no matter how much you try to tell yourself you don't, I think you know that. And what I do care about. Wh–"

"I think you just want me to touch you," she said, before I could finish the word I truly believed she didn't need to hear me say.

"Well, yes, there is that."

"You admit it?"

"I've never not admitted anything to you, even if it would put me in the negative."

"_That_ might earn you a point. Maybe even two."

"I'll be completely honest with you even if it earns me nothing."

"Even though you want everything."

"Yes. Including a haircut, which I really don't think is too great of a thing to ask for."

"You only think it isn't now because I haven't given it to you yet."

"Yet?" I repeated with a beaming smile.

"Yes, yet," she said. "If, that is, you're willing to take another drive out to my dad's. You know, since he has all of the stuff already. And since you're trying to save money and all."

Bella cut my hair for the first time just a few days later, in her father's kitchen, and under his watchful eyes, and, bless his believing in me soul, in front of his beaming with happiness smile. Which I'm sure was only as big as it was because he didn't know much I was enjoying her touching me… or, perhaps, because he knew his daughter well enough to know that that way that she was was all I was going to get to enjoy…

That was a long time ago, of course, just as it now seems to have been since I asked my wife the_ Would you?_ question, that I think sent her down the same path into our memories that I just visited and returned from.

"Of course I will," she says finally, and smiles at me, in a way that leaves no doubt that we were, in fact, together on that path. And will stay, on whatever others life throws in front of us.

**…**

**FBoFW**

**…**

"For your inspection," Bella says with a smile, laying the comb and scissors on the table and handing me a mirror.

And I look at myself, but not at the haircut she gave me. I know it's perfect without a glance, just as much as I know that something else isn't. Well… that a lot of things aren't…

But, for Bella's sake, I'm only going to focus on one that I can change. With her help if she's willing.

My wife's hands felt no less incredible to me when she was cutting my hair than they ever have, no matter what she was doing, or where she was touching me. But there's one touch that I desperately miss feeling. Yes, I'm the one that deprived myself of it, in every possible way, but this is a new day, and, just like I promised her, I'm done depriving myself, and her, of anything. Including me being me, the man she let love her, and let make her love me back completely. Something she never kept or hid from me once she did.

And though this thing that I want to do for her, want to ask _her_ to do, isn't nearly as big as that, it's something that I know, without a doubt, will make her happy. Hearing once again, and seeing, and feeling, in more ways than one, that I'm done trying to hide anything from her.

"It's not great, actually."

"What?" she asks, her shock evident in both her voice and expression. _And her hands on her hips…_ "What's wrong with it?"

"Well, my sideburns are–"

"Meeting somewhere under your chin! That I really can only _assume_ is under there somewhere."

Just like my first, Charlie was witness to my most recent haircut by his beautiful daughter, and chuckles now as he pretends to be suddenly very interested in this morning's paper.

"Exactly," I concede to my beautiful and snarky wife, after flashing him a _Thank God, and you, for her_ grin.

Which she catches, and its meaning of, I'm sure. And my 'not great' critique. "Are you saying they're too long? Even though _you_ chose to grow them out, and keep them that way?"

"Yes. And that I'm sorry for doing so. You know, since their meeting somewhere under my chin means that everything in their path to it was also hidden by them."

She reaches forward and runs her fingertips along the curve of my hidden jaw and her eyes light up. "Really? I get that back, too?"

Her simple words break my heart. Because she shouldn't have had to ever say or ask them. And my wife never would have if her husband hadn't become someone she had to fight to recognize.

Bella never minded a little stubble, and even thought it was sexy, as long as it didn't stick around for more than a few days, or completely cover her favorite part of my face. And if it did, because I let it–sometimes just to fire her up–she'd tell me to shave it, or to sit my ass down so she could. I even woke up one morning to find her straddling me, a can of shaving cream in one hand, and a razor in the other, a _You gave me no choice_ smirk on her face.

I'll never forget that morning, and partly because when she was done unveiling what she wanted to see, she unveiled herself, taking her t-shirt off and using it to wipe my skin clean of all remaining traces of the thick cream. After which I ordered her to climb up and cover it with her intoxicatingly _sweet_… an order she was more than happy to obey, and one I think I'll issue again as soon as we're alone.

"Bella, you get everything back," I tell her, "if it's in my power to give it to you. _Everything_, I promise."

She smiles at me with complete trust, and with no pity, not even for herself, and then bends down to kiss me. "Thank you," she whispers completely unnecessarily against my lips, as her other hand lifts to my face. "And we both know you could never be anything but gorgeous, but this…" She gives a gentle yank–with _both_ hands–to the overgrowth I let mar the what is to her perfection. "...does NOT meet _my_ expectations, which, I might add, _you_ taught _me_ to set at the utmost possible height. So, YES to sideburns, Mr. Cullen..." Her mouth moves to my ear before she pulls away, "and whatever else may have crossed your mind on the path to wanting to give them back to me."

And her give me back my broken record I should never have hidden from myself thoughts. _Fuck, I love my wife..._


End file.
